Move You
by whatarushh
Summary: A collection of one-shots based on each episode. A perpetual work in progress - won't be finished until the series is!
1. Episodes 1x01, 02, 03, 04

A/N: i really wanted to write a full-fledged story during Christmas break, but find myself with zero inspiration. so, to keep the creative juices flowing, i decided to rewatch both seasons from the beginning (one episode a day) and write a little one-shot for each of them. here's the first installment! enjoy! :]

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**Flowers For Your Grave**

Rick Castle couldn't sleep. Not because of writer's block, not because Alexis was sick and needed him, and not because his mother had a loud guest downstairs.

It was because of a girl.

If this wasn't shocking enough, it wasn't even because the girl was currently doing wicked things to him in bed. No, this particular girl had flat out rejected him more times than he cared to remember, and left him standing alone on the sidewalk. He'd had to stand and watch her walk away. He felt a small flame of embarrassment flicker in his stomach at the thought. But it was quickly extinguished as he thought of her walking away – the sway of her hips, her long legs striding purposefully towards the flashing lights.

Hm. Rick halted in his thoughts. Many a time he had watched beautiful women walk towards flashing lights. But, until today, those lights had belonged to a club or a party, not a police car. Maybe that's why he found Kate Beckett so fascinating. At first, he'd thought she was just a hard-ass. A beautiful hard-ass, though, so he was more than willing to try and get her into bed with him. Being rejected had sparked something within him, and he became even more determined to win her over. Yet again and again, she ignored his advances. And each time she did so, his desire to sleep with her turned into a desire to get to know her. Guessing about her life didn't count, either. No, he wanted to get her to tell him herself. So when he told her it would've been great, he'd honestly meant it. Rick grinned as he remembered her bite her lip, the devious look in her eyes, the heat of her body next to his, and what were quite possibly the sexiest words he'd ever heard uttered – _"You have no idea."_

And then she'd walked away. And he wanted to chase her.

Yet again, he paused, allowing realization to wash over him. Kate Beckett made him excited for the first time in ages. The thought of her got his heart rate up, not just a particular part of his anatomy. He wanted to fight for the girl, not have the girl fight for him. He wanted to do, he wanted to learn, he wanted to be.

Kate Beckett would be a challenge. And Rick would be more than up for it.

He narrowed his eyes in the dark, pondering his next move. That whole sexy thing she pulled earlier – leaning in, purring into his ear, walking away – it was a dirty trick.

Rick grinned. If she wanted to play dirty, he was going to give her one hell of a fight.

He sat up, and reached for his nightstand, fumbling for the pad and pen he kept there for late night inspiration. Feeling the fatigue of the day catching up with him, he scribbled two words before sinking back into his pillows and allowing sleep to overtake him.

"_Call Bob."_

**Nanny McDead**

"What about the guy in 8B?"

Kate Beckett froze, her heartbeat rising exponentially. No, this wasn't possible. He couldn't know … could he? "Who?" she asked, silently cursing herself for her slight hesitation and the urgency of her tone.

"8B," he said slowly. Kate could've sworn her heart stopped for a millisecond. This was wrong, all wrong. But before she could open her mouth to say anything, he continued. "He's a quiet guy. You see him every day, but you never notice him. But he noticed Sarah." She let out a huge breath in relief as he looked away from her and continued weaving his story. False alarm. Thank god.

As Kate made her way home later that night, she chuckled at her overreaction. Nah, there's no way he could've known. Ryan and Esposito wouldn't have told him. No, they knew that she'd kick their asses if they did.

_And besides_, she thought with a grim smile as she approached her front door, the brass number 8B shining innocently in the fluorescent light, _there's no guy living in this 8B._ The one Castle was talking about? Maybe. But this one?

Kate stepped inside and looked around her empty apartment with a sigh. "No guy. Just me."

**Hedgefund Homeboys**

Kate Beckett started and looked up from her paperwork. She picked up her cell phone, which was vibrating its way to the edge of her desk, and glanced at the screen. 'New Text Message,' it exclaimed, 'from Rick Castle.' She rolled her eyes, and flipped her phone open.

_Miss me yet?_

This earned another eye roll. She quickly shot off a response.

_Something like that. And by "something" I meant "nothing."_

Her phone vibrated again within seconds.

_Youch. That one stung a little, Beckett._

She actually laughed aloud, but quickly stifled it. Embarrassed, she glanced around the precinct to make sure nobody noticed her mirth before responding.

_What can I say? It's what I do best._

Was it just her, or were his responses coming quicker each time?

_Do I need glasses or did you use correct grammar. A woman after my own heart. _

She knew enough to hold in her laughter this time, but had quite a job doing so.

_Yes, I used correct grammar. Good job not using a question mark, by the way._

Her phone vibrated again, and she flipped it open eagerly.

_Sorry, I was too distracted by my overwhelming attraction to your grammatical correctness to pay attention to mine._

Mid-text, she had presence of mind enough to wonder if responding so quickly made her seem desperate.

_Note to self: use bad grammar to get rid of Castle._

She was beginning to love the sound of her phone vibrating. Wait, did she really just think that?

_Oh, har har, very funny. So how's the precinct been in my absence?_

She heaved a sigh, and was extremely aggravated with herself when the corners of her lips twitched upwards.

_Castle, you've been gone for a day. Did you think things were going to collapse without you here?_

Another buzz, another text.

…_Maybe._

Yet again, Kate laughed out loud. Damn him.

_Well, we've been fantastic. And hey, why do you have so much texting time on your hands?_

Honestly, wasn't the man supposed to be chaperoning a school trip?

_The principal is giving us instructions, and I'm really bored._

Oh geez. Seriously?

_You realize you're supposed to be listening to that, right?_

She was almost afraid to see what he said in response to that.

_Aw, but it's not fun! _

She rolled her eyes. Must she act like his mother? And via text, no less?

_Castle. Stop talking to me and listen. Goodbye._

Another vibrate? She groaned, but flipped her phone open, only half grudgingly.

_I don't wanna!_

Kate rolled her eyes and closed her phone, tossing it into her bag. She returned ruefully to her paperwork, trying to ignore the fact that she felt significantly happier than she had all day.

"Yo, Beckett!" she heard Esposito call. "We've got a body!"

And all thoughts of texting were forgotten.

Or so she thought. Later that afternoon, when she fished her phone out of her bag, she nearly dropped it in shock. _How_ many new text messages?! She flipped her phone open and made her way through her inbox.

_Beckett?_

_Hello?_

_You there? _

_No? _

_This is me pouting._

_Oh come on, don't you remember how boring listening to teachers is?_

…_Miss me yet?_

**Hell Hath No Fury**

As Kate Beckett watched Rick Castle sprint out of the precinct (nearly running over Detective Roland in the process), she could feel her brain grind into action. That ass, she fumed. How dare he steal her thunder like that? Sure, Captain Montgomery was kidding, but was she being selfish for not even wanting him to joke about not praising her for a job well done?

And hell, even _she_ knew where Castle was supposed to be that night. But was it selfish of her to not tell him because she secretly wanted him to spend the time with her instead? Seriously though, how could the idiot not be aware of his own book reading?

Kate had reached her apartment without even realizing it, having been so lost in her thoughts. She opened her front door slowly, pausing on the threshold. This would be a perfect opportunity to throw Castle off his game as much as he'd done it to her. But how? She wandered aimlessly around her apartment for a few moments, waiting for inspiration to strike. And it finally did, when she stopped in front of her closet; a sliver of magenta fabric had caught her eye.

Her face split into a grin. A wide, elated, evil grin.

Twenty minutes later, she left her apartment, hiding her secret weapon securely under a long red peacoat. She still noticed heads turning as she walked down the street. Feeling confident and, honestly, really sexy, she held her head high and strode purposely into Broadway Books. She couldn't help but smirk as she heard his amplified and over-dramatic voice, and made her way stealthily through the crowd. Slowly, she slipped out of her coat.

This was going to be priceless.

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A/N: feedback is always appreciated! now i'm off to watch A Chill Goes Through Her Veins. can't say i'm not excited, lol.


	2. Episodes 1x05, 06, 07, 08

A/N: thanks for the great reviews! keep 'em coming! :D

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**A Chill Goes Through Her Veins**

"I heard that, ya know."

Kate Beckett took her eyes off the road for a moment to glance at Rick Castle, seated beside her. "Heard what?"

"You said 'us.' You told Wyler he lied to 'us,' not to 'me.'"

Kate looked determinedly out the windshield at the traffic in front of her and said nothing.

"It's the first time you've done that," he said, pretending to be nonchalant and looking pseudo-absentmindedly out the window.

"Oh, is it? I hadn't noticed." Lies. All lies. She cursed inwardly.

"Yep."

They rode the rest of the way in silence, until they reached the precinct. Kate parked and made to get out of the car, but was stopped by a hand on her arm. She turned to see Rick looking at her and smiling. Well, not _really_ smiling. But he had that look in his eyes that told her he was smiling on the inside – the one where they looked all warm and twinkly, and had the cutest little laugh lines around them… _Shut up, Kate._

"I really like being an 'us' with you," he said quietly.

Before she could even begin to pick her jaw up off the ground to formulate a response, he was getting out of the car. She swallowed hard and followed silently.

**Always Buy Retail**

When Rick Castle imagined what the scenario surrounding is own death would be, he'd come to the conclusion that dying at gunpoint wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility. God knows he'd made enough enemies throughout his life. And honestly, it'd be a rather fitting end, given his career. So he'd long ago decided that he wouldn't mind dying this way. If nothing else, it'd make one hell of a story.

But when he actually did find himself staring down the barrel of a gun, he certainly wasn't prepared for the first and only thought that raced through his mind: _Beckett._

He grabbed her just in the nick of time. Bullets whizzed through the air as they fell behind the couch, impacting the wall behind where her head had been mere milliseconds earlier. Looking back on that moment, Rick always found himself smiling at the irony. She'd landed on top of him, the length of her body pressed against his, their faces so close he'd have to go cross-eyed just to look at her. It wasn't exactly how he'd pictured his first intimate moment with Kate Beckett, and he didn't even get to enjoy it. Well, he certainly enjoyed the fact that she was still alive, but was too afraid for their lives for his mind to go to its dirty place.

"Call 911!" she yelled in the direction of the bedroom, where he knew Diana Edwards was currently hiding, scared to death. She was off of him in a flash, kneeling behind the couch and firing bullets in Bailer's direction before Rick had even realized she'd grabbed her gun. He prayed that one of them would hit its mark. But more shots rang out, and Beckett's gun wasn't the culprit. Crap.

She began crawling away from him. Rick didn't even know where she was going, or what she planned to do once she got there, but he _did_ know that he didn't want her out of his sight. So he followed her behind the island in the kitchen, blood pounding in his ears and his heart beating out of his chest. Something shattered on the counter above them, causing Beckett to cry out in surprise. He quickly sat up and shook the glass dust out of his hair.

"Give me the passport!" he heard a man yell in a thick Nigerian accent.

"Put down your weapon!" Beckett yelled. "Now!"

Another shot rang out and another glass shattered, its remnants flying from the counter and skittering away across the floor.

"Give me the passport!" the man yelled again.

Terrified, Rick looked at Beckett. She had the passport clasped in her hand, right next to her gun. Though she was breathing heavily, he could see no sign of fear in her eyes, which comforted him to no end.

"Bailer, any minute now this place is going to be crawling with cops. Don't make things worse than they are," she commanded loudly.

Rick jumped as several more shots were fired and a cascade of glass rained down on them. Beckett, however, was prepared. She spun around and fired back half blindly. Bailer shot yet again, this time hitting a candy jar. Beckett made a frustrated noise as dozens of multicolored M&Ms joined the litter of glass on the wooden floor.

Rick could've sworn his heart stopped for several seconds as Beckett fought back yet again, this time exposing her head and shoulders above the countertop in order to get a better shot. He resumed breathing again when she ducked back down, but his feeling of dread deepened as Bailer shot once more.

"Give me what I want, and I walk away!"

Ah crap. Rick knew this one all too well. He turned to Beckett. "I've written this scene about a hundred times," he said frantically. "We give him what he wants, and you know how it ends? Badly. And by 'badly,' I mean us dead."

"Just stay down," she ordered, adjusting her grip on her gun.

He could see where this was going, and didn't like it one bit. "You stay down!" he countered.

"I can't shoot him from down here!" she whispered angrily.

"Yeah, well he can't shoot you either!" he shot back desperately.

If she could tell he was worried about her, she chose to ignore it. He held his breath as she slowly inched her head up to the counter. He flinched as three more of Bailer's shots rang out, and Beckett hid herself once again.

She blew her hair out of her face. "I can't see him."

Rick heard footsteps, and quickly shushed her. "He's moving."

The footsteps stopped. "I've only got two rounds left," Beckett whispered, her voice finally becoming tinged with desperation. "I _need_ a clean shot, I've gotta get eyes on him somehow."

His brain ground into action. _Okay, sticking our heads up there is a death sentence. All we really need up there are eyes, like a periscope. Or … a camera!_

He quickly dug into his pocket and retrieved his phone. Sliding it open, he activated the camera.

"What's with you and the phone?" Beckett asked incredulously. He became marginally less nervous; if she had the presence of mind to keep their dynamic normal, they were going to be fine. Hopefully.

He stuck his phone above the counter and snapped a quick picture, jerking his hand back to safety as Bailer shot yet another three bullets their way.

"I'm not playing games!"

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock! Rick showed the picture to Beckett; Bailer was hiding behind a wall. She met Rick's eyes.

"I don't have an angle on him from down here."

"I _will_ kill you both!" Bailer yelled.

Rick cursed silently. His eyes darted around the room in front of him as he searched his mind for something, _anything_, that would at least buy some time for backup to arrive. His eyes fell on the liquor cabinet in front of him, and he felt the proverbial light bulb go off above his head. It'd be risky, very risky. He ran the danger of getting shot. But no, there was a slim chance of that happening; Beckett wouldn't let it happen. He steeled himself. This may be their only chance. He'd just have to trust that she wouldn't let him down.

"Okay," he said breathlessly, scooting forward to open the door. "When we shoot, he shoots. He'll be exposed." Damn, he'd said the end result without explaining his plan. Good going, Castle. "I'll set the pick, you take him down." He removed a bottle of champagne.

"Set the pick with what?" she asked, sounding like she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

He wrestled the plastic wrapping off of the cork. "This."

"You're gonna get yourself shot!" She sounded furious.

"Not if you make _your_ shot count." He looked up from the bottle and was surprised to see some concern in her eyes.

"Castle!" she exclaimed.

He took charge. "Just be ready."

That was all the encouragement she needed. He turned and slid himself to one end of their hiding spot, shaking the bottle to agitate it. He heard Beckett readying herself at the opposite end. This was it.

"This is your last warning."

At Bailer's words, Rick sprang into action. "NOW!" he yelled, throwing himself out into the open and sending the cork flying with a loud 'pop.' He experienced a moment of sheer terror as Bailer showed himself and pointed his gun.

But two gunshots later, Bailer was on the ground, moaning in pain. Rick felt like he'd been clubbed over the head with a frying pan, his relief was that intense. He looked over at Beckett and marveled at how normal she already was; she let her hands drop to her sides as she walked over to Bailer's prone form, kneeling down beside him and taking out her handcuffs.

Rick was giddy and weak with wasted adrenaline. "I'd say this deserves a toast," he said, lifting the bottle of champagne to his lips and relishing its bite as he took a swig. It'd been a long time since he'd needed alcohol to deal with anything.

Beckett let out a disbelieving laugh as she dragged Bailer's arms closer to her so she could cuff him. Rick held out the bottle in her direction in offering, but wasn't surprised when she turned it down. She dealt with things like this far more often than he did, and he'd eat his laptop if she hadn't already found a way to cope with it. But as a newbie, he decided that alcohol was perfectly okay. Now where were the champagne glasses in this place?

Later that day, Rick Castle came to two very important conclusions. When he slid his phone open to find a text from Beckett reading, "Just wanted to make sure you're okay," he decided with a grin that he was in this for the long haul.

And second? Screw the story. Dying at gunpoint would NOT be worth it.

**Home is Where the Heart Stops**

"I have a question for you, Castle," Kate Beckett said, turning to face him, file folder in hand. "What the _hell_?" She emphasized the last word by slapping his arm with the folder.

"Whatever do you mean?" Rick asked mock innocently. "And I'll take _that_," he said, plucking the folder from her hand.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that crap. Where'd you learn how to shoot like that, and _why the hell didn't you tell me you could_?"

He chuckled and peeked into the folder, stealing a glance at the photos and making sure she didn't renege on their deal. "Marksmanship team. It was my side project in college."

"That doesn't answer my second question."

"Hm?"

"Why did you lead me to believe that you had no experience?"

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest and holding the folder against him. "First of all, I didn't think you'd throw down a challenge and force me to show myself."

"So you were going to just let me think that you're worse than you actually are?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd take too kindly to me being better than you at something within your area of expertise." He paused. "Wow, that sounded better in my head. I didn't mean for it to come out as so patronizing."

Kate glared at him. "I don't know what kind of women you've dealt with in the past, but I do _not_ like laboring under false pretenses. If you're better than me, tell me." She stepped closer so they were almost nose-to-nose. "Because as much as I hate you having the upper hand, being lied to is that much worse." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away.

Rick watched her go, a small smile playing across his lips.

**Ghosts**

It had been a comparatively long time since Rick Castle had gotten a woman's phone number. And it was no wonder, he mused, glancing at his cards; he'd gotten one mere days earlier, and had just returned it to its owner.

Quickly racking his memory, he couldn't think of another time in his life when he'd done that. The routine was always the same – flirt, take the girl's number, call her the next day, go out with her that evening, sleep with her that night. If things went well, he'd think about round two. But for the most part, they'd part ways and he'd never see them again. Then the cycle would start all over again.

He'd had the chance to continue it tonight. Lee Wax's card had made itself at home in his wallet, and she wasn't exactly being subtle that she'd like nothing more than a wild night with a certain somebody. But the mere thought of her made him cringe. Come on, she'd all but killed Cynthia Dern and felt absolutely no remorse for what she'd done. And what was with that lip stuffed full of collagen, anyway? It was gross, that's what it was. His eyes flicked up from his cards to glance at Kate Beckett's poker face.

Kate freaking Beckett.

Rick sighed. He couldn't lie to himself anymore; the woman was a really good influence on him. A few months ago, he would've happily hopped into bed with Lee Wax with maybe a fleeting second thought. But now? Ha! Fat chance! Now, instead of having sex with one of the slimiest human beings on the planet, he was playing cards for candy with one of the most morally upstanding. Which was better?

He looked up again and found a pair of gorgeous green eyes looking back at him. They narrowed.

"Said your prayers yet, Castle?"

He grinned. No contest.

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A/N: definitely didn't think i'd write that much for Always Buy Retail, but hey :P. i forgot how much i love the first season!


	3. Episodes 1x09, 10, 2x01, 02

A/N: i'm loving all the feedback i'm getting for these! sometimes it's really hard to get inspired, but your positive comments are keeping me motivated to write good stuff. :]

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**Little Girl Lost**

Kate Beckett snuggled deeper under her blankets and allowed the worry of the previous week to leave her body. Most people, she assumed, thought that being a homicide detective was the most stressful job. But those people had never tried to solve a kidnapping when a small child's life was at stake. Her stomach clenched just thinking about it, and she had to take a deep breath to calm herself down. No, kidnappings were the absolute worst. In homicide, the person you were fighting for was already dead. As horrifyingly morbid as that sounded, it relieved a certain amount of pressure; yes, you wanted to find the killer as quickly as possible to bring comfort to the family, but when it came down to it, there was no immediate rush. When the person you were fighting for was still alive, it was like being thrown into a pressure cooker and left to stew. Everything had to have been figured out yesterday, and if you missed one single detail, a life would be lost, and it would be on your head.

Kate sighed and rolled onto her stomach. God, she felt like she could sleep for a week. Work had consumed her every thought, both asleep and awake, since she'd gotten Captain Montgomery's call early Sunday morning.

Well, no, that was a lie. Work had consumed most of her thoughts, without a doubt. But damnit, Castle was such a distraction! And not in his usual way, the way that made Kate wonder where in her job description the term "babysitter" was mentioned. Unfortunately (or fortunately, as her snide little subconscious was telling her), this distraction was far more physical than that.

She'd always thought he was attractive. Ever since she'd picked up her first copy of a Richard Castle novel, she'd spent maybe a little too much time ogling the portrait on the back cover. But that's all it had been, even after meeting him. Despite the fact that he hit on her unabashedly, Kate had trouble reconciling the possibility of maybe sleeping with him one day (maybe being the operative word) with the fact that he actually existed right there in front of her.

That, however, had collided spectacularly yesterday. She remembered walking into the room with a cool head, saying what she needed to say, and attempting to tackle what promised to be an awkward talk about what he'd witnessed in the kitchen the night before. She remembered his shirt being half unbuttoned, and seeing the sliver of his chest that was exposed. She'd immediately gotten flashes of raking her fingers down that chest, and wondering what the rest of it looked like. Thankfully, she'd been able to mentally throw the proverbial bucket of cold water on herself.

Until he put his hand down his pants.

Kate felt her face grow hot, and buried it in her pillow out of embarrassment. But that didn't get rid of the memory of him tucking in his shirt right in front of her, sticking his hand down both the front _and_ the back of his pants, achingly slowly, drawing out her agony for as long as possible.

Okay, that wasn't true. For once in his life, he was being completely innocent. It was her mind that was being dirty. And boy, was it ever.

She clenched her fists. Damn him.

**A Death in the Family**

Will Sorenson had long ago decided that Kate Beckett was one interesting woman. There were times when she was absolutely adorable, biting her lip and looking up at him from under her eyelashes. Then, of course, she could be unbelievably sexy, when she'd lean into you and make you feel like you were the only man in the world. She could be the quintessential cop, unrelentingly professional, driven, and confident. In the next moment, she could be achingly vulnerable and afraid of dealing with her feelings. And it was a total toss-up as to whether she'd laugh at your joke and crack one of her own, or huff in frustration at your immaturity. Yes, if you looked up "multifaceted" in the dictionary, Will was convinced that there'd be a picture of Kate under the definition.

So when she turned him down yet again, he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. She'd agreed to consider the possibility of dating again, so that had to have been on her mind when she surprised him at work, a doughnut in hand and a favor in mind. Seriously, a doughnut? She knew about his feelings for her; he'd made them abundantly clear on several occasions. And evidently, she was more than happy to cater to them.

And yet…

He'd fished for a date. Or an IOU. Or a favor in return. SOMETHING. He replayed the conversation in his mind repeatedly, trying to gauge where his signals had gotten messed up. She'd asked for his help, doing the whole "adorable" thing. He thought he was picking up a vibe, so he'd asked, "And, I do this for you why?" and expected a cute answer. Or a dinner invitation. Or something flirty, at least.

What he most certainly was not expecting was for her to appeal to his logic. Of course, it made it impossible for him to say no (not that he would've said no in the first place. Who was he kidding?), but it completely threw him. Was she ignoring his advances? Did it go over her head? Was he pushing too hard? Was she just stringing him along? He had no idea. Absolutely nothing was certain.

One thing, however, he was completely sure of; Kate Beckett was one interesting woman, and he'd be damned if he didn't try and get her back.

**Season 2**

**Deep in Death**

"We made a deal, and I expect you to honor it."

Okay, that was a lie. Kate Beckett thought vaguely of how much she hated the fact that Rick Castle made her lie so much; she'd prefer pretty much anything over recognizing her feelings for him, so was forced to lie about them. She hated lying so much, and she hated berating herself silently for the lies she was constantly telling, and now was no different. But she managed to arrange her face to convey nothing but the quiet anger she knew she was expected to feel and, to some extent, still did.

So contrary to what she'd just told him, she honestly did not expect him to honor any deal that would involve them never seeing each other again. She expected him to flat out refuse, fight her tooth and nail, stay planted firmly in the seat next to her desk and show up there the next day like nothing between them had changed. And a small part of her wanted these things. Okay, maybe a not so small part. Maybe even a big part. Not that she'd ever, _ever_ admit to that.

Kate didn't even realize how much she wanted him around again until he left. He looked at her with sadness in his eyes, stood up, and walked slowly out of her life. This wasn't like last time; this was real. He wasn't going to show up again. She fought to keep her emotions off of her face. What happened to the Castle that had followed her relentlessly? Where'd he go? 'Cause he wouldn't have gone away just because she told him to.

She felt tears begin to prick her eyes, and put her face in her hands, elbows resting on her desk. How had this happened? How had she come to rely on him so heavily for being the one person that would always be there?

How had he just walked away?

Her desk began to blur before her eyes as unshed tears collected. Finally, she took a deep, shaky breath and blinked them away.

"Hey, Beckett?" Ryan called, walking out of the break room. "Where's Castle?"

Kate cleared her throat, and prayed her voice wouldn't betray her. "He left."

"Oh." He paused, unsure of how to broach the sensitive subject. "Is he coming back?"

She pulled some paperwork closer to her and suddenly became very preoccupied with searching her desktop for a pen. "No."

"Alright. I'm gonna clear out."

She could almost feel Ryan's disappointment in the air, and greatly appreciated him not saying anything about it. She looked up at him. "Okay. 'Night."

He touched her back sympathetically as he walked past her desk. "'Night."

She almost smiled. The last thing she needed was someone saying they were sorry for her. She made a mental note to ease up on the insults the next day; Ryan was one hell of a guy. Glad that everyone was finally trickling out, she sighed and began her paperwork, unable to shift the cloud of melancholy hovering over her.

Kate didn't know how much time had passed when she noticed a shadow pass across her desk; she'd been fading between doing paperwork and losing herself in her own thoughts. The person casting the shadow and, even though he'd finally done what she'd told him a thousand times to do (leave her alone), she couldn't see anybody else that she knew standing silently beside her desk. It had to be Castle. But… could it?

Steeling herself for the worst, she looked up to find that her suspicions were confirmed.

"I'm sorry."

She felt her stomach dissolve. Damn, could the man be any more unpredictable?

"What I did was wrong. I violated your trust, I opened old wounds, and I did not respect your wishes. And if we're not going to see each other again, then you deserve to know…" He paused, and she could see the genuine remorse in his eyes. "I'm very, very sorry."

She wanted to take a moment to process this development and formulate a response, but he was already walking away. A momentary panic overtook her. Hell, he'd said absolutely everything she'd wanted him to, what was to process? _You'd better swallow your pride pretty damn fast_, she thought to herself. And she tried to, she really did. But even now, it was having a lot of trouble going down. _Get over yourself, you moron._

"Castle."

It was out of her mouth before she knew what she was going to say. Still looking at her desk, she heard his footsteps stop and felt his eyes on her. She couldn't meet his eyes; she'd either jump up and kiss him senseless, or change her mind about forgiving him completely. Either one would be entirely inappropriate. So she kept her eyes downcast, and said the first, simplest thing that came to mind. It just made sense, really.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

He'd once told her that that phrase (for all intents and purposes) was "hopeful." As she heard him leave the precinct and began packing up for the night, she hoped he appreciated just how hopeful it actually was.

**The Double Down**

"Can I ask you something?"

Kate Beckett stopped at a red light and glanced over at Rick Castle, who was looking at her as if she'd just said something utterly perplexing. "Um. Sure?"

"How do you know when Girl Scout cookies are sold?"

She laughed as the light turned green, and stepped on the gas without answering.

"I'm serious!" he exclaimed. "As far as I know, you don't have a daughter, so how do you know?"

"Oh Castle, I love how you think you know everything about me. Any new bit of information sends you into a tizzy, it's fantastic!"

He narrowed his eyes. "That doesn't answer the question."

"I may or may not have a goddaughter."

"See, was that so hard?"

"All I'm saying is that just because you don't know something about me doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I tell you far from everything."

"That'll change."

The complete confidence with which he uttered that sentence shut her up and brought a flush to her cheeks. They drove in silence for a few moments before he spoke again.

"Let me know when order forms are being given out. Now I'm craving a Samoa something fierce."

* * *

A/N: happy new year everybody! see you in 2010!


	4. Episodes 2x03, 04, 05, 06

A/N: ugh, i wanted this up on Sunday night, but life got in the way and now i'm a day behind schedule. i'll shoot for 2 tomorrow to make up for lost time :P.

* * *

**Inventing the Girl**

Rick Castle wasn't going to speak. Nuh uh. He and Beckett were still on uneven footing, so to speak, and he wasn't about to go screwing with her too badly. Yet. So when she told him not to speak, he was determined to listen. He took a backseat, standing against the wall, apart from the interrogation in an effort not to tempt himself. But the guy sitting across from Beckett and proclaiming his innocence was just so damn tempting.

He'd killed his wife. There was no way around it. He'd followed her to the Teddy Farrow party, and to Wyatt Munroe's apartment. He'd threatened her, called her demeaning names, slapped her across the face, and stabbed her. Why? Because he didn't want her to leave him. Because he was so angry he "couldn't see straight anymore."

Rick clenched his jaw to keep himself silent. Abusive men were at the top of his proverbial hit list. Maybe it was because he was raised by a single mother, maybe it was because his only child was a girl, he wasn't quite sure. All he could be sure of at this point was that the blathering idiot sitting in the interrogation room was making his blood boil.

He was suddenly overcome with memories ricocheting around in his mind; he was five years old, and his mother's boyfriend had her arm in a vice-like grip; he was eight, and his soon-to-be stepfather was screaming obscenities as his mother; he was 13, and his mother was holding ice to her bruised face. But what was worse than that were the sickening glimpses into the future he was seeing; Alexis, his baby girl, being slapped around, or huddled in a corner out of fear, or sporting a bloody lip.

Jenna McBoyd was somebody's Alexis. That scraggly piece of scum had taken her away out of his own selfishness and insecurity.

And for the first time in his life, Rick Castle wanted another human being to suffer.

So he spoke.

**Fool Me Once**

"No hot date tonight?"

"No. Just the paperwork."

"One of the many reasons I'm glad I'm not actually a cop. Have a good one."

"Yeah, you too."

Rick Castle turned and headed out of the precinct. Or so she thought, he thought with a diabolical grin. As soon as he knew he was out of Kate Beckett's line of sight, he picked up his pace and made a beeline for (oh god, the press would have a field day with this) the women's bathroom. Thankfully it was empty, enabling him to keep his dignity intact. Well, what's left of it at least, he thought with a grimace as he entered the first stall.

He looked down. Feet. Damn. Thinking quickly, he hopped on top of the toilet and crouched down. At least it'd give him better leverage to see over the stall, right? He took a moment to appreciate how ridiculous this was; a grown man hunched down on top of a toilet in the women's bathroom, all in the name of a surprise. But oh, what a surprise it would be! He would pay for it dearly the next day, but he was certain that it would be more than worth it.

Rick smiled wickedly as he heard the door to the bathroom open and watched Beckett's shoes walk past the stall he was hiding in. Oh, he knew her so well. He'd accidentally (or, um, not) peeked into her bottom drawer earlier, and seen Heat Wave sticking out of her bag. That, he reasoned, wasn't his fault. He couldn't help it if she was terrible at hiding things! Nor could he help it that he was due for some revenge – an easy mark, his ass!

The sound of pages flipping in quick succession earned another grin. Yes. She was looking for the sex scene. Could this be any more perfect? Finally certain that this was the optimal reveal moment, he stood up.

"Aha! I knew you were reading it!"

**When the Bough Breaks**

Kate Beckett stalked away from the table stacked high with books, positively fuming. She spotted Lanie in a far corner of the room, chatting with a man she didn't recognize, and headed in that direction.

Lanie looked up and spotted her. "Hey girl!" she said with a grin. It faded quickly when she saw the look on her face. "Wait, what's wrong?"

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Lanie nodded and excused herself, and Kate immediately grabbed her arm and dragged her away.

"Whoa whoa whoa, I need that arm!" Lanie joked. "You just got here, what the hell could've happened already?"

Kate stopped walking and turned to face her friend. "I deserve it, really," she said bitterly, "for associating with the likes of him." She nearly spat the last word, and jerked her head towards Castle, who was talking to Paula across the room.

Lanie sighed. "What did he do?"

"He's a boy. He's a stupid, stupid boy."

"And you didn't know this before tonight?"

"Oh I knew, I just thought he'd notice when I was finally ready to move forward with our relationship."

"Damn," Lanie muttered. "That man needs a good slap across the face."

"And on top of that," Kate continued, mildly hysterically, "he's taking the other offer. So not only did he turn me down, I'm not even good enough to write a book about anymore."

"Sweetie, I don't think that's what this means."

"No? Then please, enlighten me. What does it mean?"

Lanie paused and thought for a moment. "Well, maybe he wanted you to tell him that you want him to stick around."

Kate scoffed. "Yeah, right. He's never needed that before." She sighed. "Don't let me drink, Lanie."

"Why?"

"Because I really want to. But all that got my dad was a membership in AA."

Lanie smiled. "Don't worry, I'll hold your drinking hand for as long as you need me to."

Just then, a man approached the two. "Are you Kate Beckett?" Kate nodded, and he smiled and extended his hand. "Hi, wow, it's so nice to meet you. I have a table over there, I was wondering—"

Lanie broke in. "Not now, Cassanova," she said, taking Kate's arm and leading her away. When they were clear of any suitors, Lanie continued. "So what're you going to do?"

Kate shook her head sadly. "I'm gonna go home. I know the best revenge is having a good time, but I'm really not." Her voice grew cold. "And I don't want him to think I'm using him for his parties. Let him miss me."

Meanwhile, Rick was talking to Paula by the bar. "You can tell them I accept the offer. I'm done with Nikki Heat." He signaled the bartender for a drink.

Paula raised an eyebrow. "So soon? Not ten minutes ago you were telling me how you didn't want to leave her."

"Yeah, well, things have changed." A glass of champagne was put down in front of him, and he downed it.

"Far be it for me to complain." She paused. "You gonna sleep with her?"

He placed the glass down with a little too much force. "No."

"Why not? You obviously want to, and it'll be a distraction until you do."

He looked at her. "You want me to get it out of my system, right?" She nodded, and he shook his head sadly. "The thing is, I don't think one night would get it out of my system."

Paula's eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. "No?"

"You said it yourself, she's a special girl." He looked up and noticed Lanie approaching him. "Lanie! Where is she? What'd she say about me?" Paula rolled her eyes in amusement.

Lanie glared at him. "Where is she? She went home."

His face fell. "She did?"

She made a face. "Yes, she did. So if you want to see her again, you'd better be at the precinct tomorrow."

"She'll kill me."

"Yeah, well, that's a risk you'll just have to take." She began to walk away, but turned around. "And if you play your cards right, she won't."

He sighed as he watched Lanie's retreating back.

"I don't think I've ever seen you fight so hard for a woman. She must really be worth it," Paula mused. Rick turned back to face her. "So you're gonna see her tomorrow, right?"

He shrugged. "What, just show up? I don't know."

"Well, think up some excuse, loverboy. This one seems to have had a good influence on you, and even if you're not going to be following her around anymore, I'll be damned if I'm going to let you ruin this entirely."

He raised his eyebrows. "An excuse?"

"You're a writer. I'm sure you'll think of something."

**Vampire Weekend**

"Well, this case is refreshing," Rick Castle commented as he and Kate Beckett retraced their steps through the cemetery back to her car.

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" He nodded. "How so?"

"Nowadays, it's rare to find a vampire that doesn't sparkle."

She couldn't help herself, and laughed. "That's not entirely true, though. TV has vampires coming out of its ears. True Blood, the Vampire Diaries…"

He sighed. "Boy, pop culture really knows how to ruin things."

"Mm," she agreed.

"I love the classics, though. Like Dracula? Two thumbs up."

"I'm going to have to disagree."

"Really?"

"Yeah. My favorite vampire is purple and loves numbers."

It was Rick's turn to laugh. "I'll give you that one. A cravat is a tough look to pull off, but he makes it work."

Kate grinned as they approached the car. "Not to mention the killer accent."

He imitated it. "I am ze Count! I vant to count you!"

"Okay, the Count can work the accent. You? Not so much."

"Aww," he pouted. "What about a monocle?" He held up his thumb and forefinger in a circle around his eye.

She opened the car door and paused, observing him over the top of the car. "Why do I feel like you already have one?"

"Because some people take Halloween seriously."

* * *

A/N: props to "Richard Castle"'s facebook for giving me the cravat idea. i believe the exact words were "I don't sparkle very well, but I rock a mean cravat." hah :].


	5. Episodes 2x07, 08, 09, 10

A/N: heh, in regards to a review i got for my When the Bough Breaks bit, i didn't realize you could hear Castle opening the bathroom door when Beckett was already inside. i apologize to those of you that hate incontinuity, like myself :P. but hey, i still love the image of Castle crouching on the toilet, so i'll let myself off easy this time! lol.

* * *

**Famous Last Words**

Alexis Castle grimaced as she scrolled through the latest wall posts on her facebook.

_How'd Hayley die?_

_Have they arrested Hayley's killer yet?_

_Is your dad really helping the police investigate Hayley's murder?_

_OMG, your dad got to meet the Blue Pill?!_

_Do you know more about Hayley's murder than the press does? Can you keep me in the loop?_

_Wait, what happens with the band now?_

Finally getting fed up, she signed off and closed her laptop. Most of these posts were from people she hardly even spoke to, but even some of her closest friends were pestering her with questions. She sighed, and lay back on her bed. Not only did she have to deal with the death of one of her favorite musicians, but she had to fend off the rabid teenagers that thought she was some sort of expert on what had happened. The truth was that Alexis didn't know any more than anybody else at her school. Hopefully she would soon, though; she was planning on interrogating her dad about it as soon as he walked through the door. But that's different, she reasoned. He had an inside look on the case, unlike herself. Plus, he didn't really know about Hayley, or her music for that matter, so he didn't have an emotional attachment like she did.

How did people deal with things like this? She was having trouble getting back to her normal life, and it was just a famous musician she liked that had been killed. What if it had been a friend or family member? Alexis's stomach contracted at the thought. That would be bad enough without the inevitable onslaught of questions, especially in the case of a murder. Sure, the police had to ask questions, but that wouldn't make it any easier. She wondered how many of them had been on the receiving side of their interrogations and knew what the victims' families were feeling.

She sat up. Detective Beckett. Yes! Beckett would know how to cope with something like this. She quickly rummaged through her bag to find her phone, emerging with it in her hand. But she paused as she was searching through her contacts. Was this a dumb idea? After all, in the grand scheme of things, Hayley wasn't really _that_ important to her. Beckett had had to deal with the loss of her mother; Alexis had to wonder if she'd think less of her for being so lost over the death of a musician. And she'd probably be busy now, anyway. Was it worth it to interrupt her work with what was now seeming like a petty concern?

From downstairs, she heard the front door open and close; dad was home. This jogged Alexis out of her thoughts, and she hurriedly put her phone on her nightstand and left her room. Dad would have some words of advice, she was sure of it. And really, she didn't want to bother Beckett, her work is too important. _When dad's not an option_, Alexis reasoned as she went downstairs, _I'll talk to Beckett._

**Kill the Messenger**

"You okay?"

Kate Beckett paused in pouring herself a cup of coffee and turned to see Castle observing her from the door of the break room. "Yeah. Why?"

"Well," he said, stepping into the room and joining her by the counter, "I imagine it wasn't easy to hear someone ask if you remember what you were doing ten years ago."

She smiled slightly. "I didn't think you'd catch that."

"Oh please, I catch everything!"

"Except the license plates of getaway cars, right?"

He made a face. "Remind me never to be nice to you again."

She laughed. "No, I'm okay. It wasn't her fault, she didn't know."

"That doesn't mean it didn't hurt."

"Yeah, a little. It always does." She shrugged. "But if I fell to pieces every time anyone mentioned 'ten years ago,' I'd be in a mental facility by now."

"I don't know," he sighed, "I think it'd take me more than ten years to heal if my mother died."

She smiled sadly. "You've had yours for a lot longer than I had mine."

He was suddenly overcome with a strong urge to hug her, but forced himself to stifle it. "It's just… if you need anything, let me know. A sympathetic ear, a shoulder to cry on…"

"Thanks, Castle. I really appreciate that."

"…a quickie in an interrogation room…"

She punched his arm.

"Ow!"

**Love Me Dead**

Rick Castle plopped down in the chair next to Kate Beckett's desk. "Okay, I'm ready. Lay it on me."

She glanced up. "What are you talking about?"

"The I-told-you-sos. You said they start today, so let's get it over with now." He jokingly squeezed his eyes shut and held his arms up in front of his face as if bracing for impact.

She rolled her eyes in amusement. "Would you relax? I'm not going to say I told you so."

He looked at her incredulously from behind his hands. "You're not?" She shook her head. "How come?"

"'Cause that'd be mean."

He slowly lowered his arms. "Since when do you care about not being mean to me?"

She chuckled. "Hey, I might be a bitch sometimes, but I'm not mean!"

"That's true," he conceded with a grin. "But you could completely wail on me for this."

"You wanna know what I think?" she asked, leaning her elbows on her desk.

He nodded. "Always."

"That you're like a kid."

"Yeah, that's nothing new, thanks."

"Would you let me finish?" she laughed. "I mean, you're like a kid in that it's your nature to trust people implicitly. This could just be me projecting, and it might be completely wrong, but from what I've seen, you'd never play someone like that so you aren't expecting someone to do it to you." She shrugged. "Scarlett preyed on that. It's nothing to make fun of."

He was silent for a moment. "Thanks," he said quietly.

She smiled, but didn't say anything.

"I like you when you're nice."

She smirked. "Don't get used to it."

He grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it."

**One Man's Treasure**

Martha looked up from her script as the front door to the apartment opened. "There's my crime-fighting family!" she said with a smile.

Alexis laughed as she made her way over to the table. "Hey gram," she said, placing a quick kiss on her cheek.

"How was your first day at work?"

"It was good. There wasn't much crime-fighting involved," she said jokingly, "but I like to think I'm being a little bit useful to the precinct."

"Oh please," Rick piped up as he rifled through the cabinets for the right pot to cook dinner in, "a little bit useful? You worked some magic in there."

Alexis grinned.

"What was your job?" Martha asked, patting the seat next to her.

Alexis sat down. "I worked in the property room classifying objects."

"And what does that mean to those of us that aren't well-versed in police lingo?"

"It means," she continued with a chuckle, "that I was sorting through all the stuff collected from crime scenes that aren't evidence and that the families either don't want or don't take. I tagged everything with its case number and put it into the database, and everything else just went into storage."

"Anything good in that storage box?" Martha asked with a playful waggle of her eyebrows.

"Gram!" Alexis exclaimed with a laugh. "Not really, most of it's pretty worthless. The victims' families take the important things, like rings and watches and stuff."

Rick blinked and looked up from the silverware drawer. "Did you say rings and watches?"

Alexis looked confused. "Yeah. Why?"

A man's watch on a slender wrist. A ring hanging on a delicate silver chain.

He cleared his throat. "Oh, no reason. Ignore me." His mother and daughter continued his conversation, but as he retrieved his phone from his pocket, he wasn't really paying attention to what they were saying.

Kate Beckett started as her phone buzzed on the coffee table at her feet. She leaned forward and caught it as it vibrated itself over the edge, and flipped it open to find a text message from Castle.

_Did you tell Alexis that victims' families claim important things like rings and watches?_

She closed her eyes briefly. Damn.

He grabbed his phone immediately when it alerted him to her response.

_Yeah, old habit. I didn't even think about it. Sorry._

He smiled. Only Beckett would apologize for something like this.

_Don't apologize, _he answered, _you speak from experience. Actually, I apologize if I sounded accusatory._

She let out a sigh of relief, not really sure why she'd been worried, and responded right away.

_Sorry, I try to avoid bringing my personal experience into other people's._

His response made her chuckle.

_Beckett, didn't I just tell you not to apologize?_

She almost apologized yet again, but caught herself.

_See, I could apologize for apologizing too much, but I think I'll refrain._

He grinned as he noticed that he never appreciated his phone's ringer more than when he knew it was Beckett on the other end.

_Well aren't I lucky!_

She chuckled. Damn him for being so cute.

_For many, many reasons._

He wasn't sure how to respond to that one. So he settled for his usual standby; flirting.

_One of them being the fact that I get to spend every day with you._

How could he make her blush when he wasn't even around?

_I was really talking about how you have a great family to go home to, but thanks._

He sighed sadly as he answered.

_I meant that. And you have a family too, which I'm sure is equally great._

She smiled dryly as she texted him back. If he only knew.

_Not really. All I have is a ring and a watch, remember?_

At this, he cursed the unfairness of the universe.

_You still have your dad. And you can share my family whenever you want. You know that, right?_

She wanted to cry. Unsure of what to say, she simply sent him what she was feeling.

_:)_

He breathed a sigh of relief. Victorious.

_Yes! A Beckett smile! They're my favorite!_

She grinned, and tried desperately to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

_Stop flirting with me and go take advantage of that family._

He laughed.

_Your wish is my command._

That earned an amused eye roll.

_See you tomorrow._

Rick sent his final text ("_Can't wait"_), and set his phone down on the counter. Turning around, he was startled to see the two women of the house looking at him rather knowingly.

"So dad," Alexis drawled, "who was that?"

"Since when are you so nosy?"

"You're right," Martha said to her granddaughter. "It was Beckett."

Rick gaped at them. "How'd you know?"

"Oh please," Martha said, waving a hand airily as if to say it were nothing. "Nobody else makes you smile like that when they're not even here. And besides, you avoided the question."

"And, to make it even more obvious, you didn't say it was no one," Alexis answered with a smug smile. "Because we all know that Beckett is definitely _not_ no one."

"You're too easy to read, dear," Martha added.

"Mmm, you might want to work on your poker face, dad."

He rolled his eyes.

Again, Kate jumped slightly when her phone vibrated. And again, she opened it to see a text from Castle.

_Care to take my "great" family off my hands? Like, now?_

She burst out laughing.

* * *

A/N: man, it's just so easy to make Castle be cute :]. and i gotta say, writing Castle/Beckett text conversations is quite possibly my favorite thing ever, lol.

unfortunately, this is going to be my last update on this for awhile. i want to keep adding every four episodes, and there's only one more out right now. so, i'll see you all in about 3 weeks ... the upcoming episodes look/sound AMAZING, so hopefully i'll be on top of my game and have some good stuff for you guys. :D


	6. Episodes 2x11, 12, 13, 14

A/N: hello world! how i've missed you! lol. the past few episodes have been uber amazing (anyone who argues with this will be shot on site) and extra inspirational, so A Rose for Everafter and Sucker Punch both got two one-shots :]. these episodes had so much substance that i HAD to write longer pieces for them in addition to the little cute ones.

* * *

**The Fifth Bullet**

"See!" Rick Castle said, following Kate Beckett into the break room. "Ryan and Esposito think ice bullets are worth paying attention to!"

"And that's supposed to mean something to me?"

He groaned. "Why won't you even consider it as a possibility?"

"Because it's not possible," she said slowly, as if speaking to a five-year-old.

"Hey, just because you don't think it's likely doesn't mean—"

"No."

"What?"

"I don't _think _it's not possible, I _know_."

"What, have you tried to shoot an ice bullet before?"

She sighed. "Okay. When you go home tonight, go to YouTube and search 'MythBusters ice bullet.'"

"What the heck is a MythBuster?"

"Someone that busts myths. As in, the myth of the ice bullet," she said, looking at him pointedly. "It's a TV show. Get with the program, Castle."

He shook his head. "I don't care what you say about these MythBuster whosie-whatsis. Ice bullets can't be fake. I don't believe it."

The next day, during a spare moment, he approached her with a forlorn look on his face. "I can't believe it."

She smirked. "Told you so. Ice bullets are _not_ possible, they evaporate before they leave the barrel."

He pouted. "I feel like my whole life has been a lie."

"Um, if ice bullets are your whole life, you're not the same person I thought you were."

"And who is it you think I am?"

"Someone who would watch hours of MythBusters episodes online when he realized that they routinely blow stuff up."

He contemplated for a moment. "Nope, I'm definitely the person you thought. That cement truck blowing up was so awesome! Oh, and the water heater, and the foam shark, and the jawbreaker… And they split a car in half! How ridiculous was that?!..."

She rolled her eyes as he jabbered on. Boys.

**A Rose for Everafter, #1**

Kate Beckett was standing beside her desk, gathering a stack of files, when she looked up to see Sheila Blaine approaching, fresh from her interview with Ryan and Esposito. She stopped beside Kate's desk and sighed dramatically.

"I just wanted to tell you that you're doing the world a great service by dealing with Richard every day," she said. It was so fake and condescending, Kate could've sworn she threw up in her mouth a little bit. "I know it may seem like a great inconvenience to you, but he's much better off here than wreaking havoc on every civilian he comes across."

Kate bristled. Sure, Castle could be annoying as hell sometimes, but what in god's name did this woman have against him? He wasn't a bad person, even Kate would admit that. No character? Oh come on, that's just an overprotective mother trying to hold onto her daughter for dear life. This woman, Kate decided, needed a good slap in the face. And she took it upon herself to do the verbal equivalent.

"Hm," she said thoughtfully. "Maybe you're right. Maybe he _is_ better off with me. After all, I don't have a mother to disrespect him like you do."

Sheila straightened up indignantly. "Disrespect him?! Please, that man is dirt beneath my feet! He deserves to be disrespected! And why won't your mother do it, hm? Is she afraid? One of those passive women that thinks everyone needs to like her in order for life to exist?"

Kate looked her square in the eye. "No. My mother is dead," she said coldly. "She was murdered."

She reveled in the gobsmacked look on Sheila's face. "Oh my, I'm so sorry!" the woman all but whispered. "How ever did you recover from that?"

Kate smiled innocently. "It had to do with character, which, of course, you'd know if you had any." She turned smartly on her heel and strode away, only to spot Castle gawping at her from the door to the break room. She would've been embarrassed at him seeing that, but it gave way to the utter amusement of seeing his jaw nearly scraping the ground.

She walked over and stopped directly in front of him, smiling slightly as she touched the tip of her index finger underneath his chin. "Catching flies, Castle?" she asked in a low voice, gently pushing upwards and closing his mouth for him.

He swallowed hard. "Um, well…I mean, I just—uh…" he stammered.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Coffee?" he asked feebly.

She smiled. "Sure."

**A Rose for Everafter, #2**

"_He's all yours."_

What the hell?

Kate Beckett allowed her eyes to fall on Rick Castle, sitting in the adjacent room with something of a nostalgic look on his face; she couldn't tell if it was more sad or content, and it worried her. She really didn't want him pining for his seconds-away-from-being-married-to-another-man lost love. That stuff's way too painful, and he deserves better.

_Look at you, caring about his feelings,_ a snide little voice in her head commented.

She shushed it.

_But is that really the only reason you don't want him pining after Kyra?_

She grit her teeth as she stood up, and reprimanded herself for allowing the voice of her conscience to be such a damn bitch. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she walked over to the table he was sitting at and slowly lowered herself into a chair on the opposite side of the table. The words 'are you okay?' almost escaped from her lips, but she caught them just in time. No prying, she told herself. She just hoped her presence would say what she didn't want to; that he had a friend. And besides, this is Castle we're dealing with. Kate would be willing to bed anything she owned that he'd talk eventually.

He glanced at her. "She invited us to her wedding."

Kate was taken aback. "Us?"

"Well," he amended, "technically she invited me and my plus one. But she did include a not-so-subtle glance in your direction, and I wouldn't have taken anyone else anyway, so…"

She smiled. "That's nice of her."

He jerked out of his fog and looked at her mildly incredulously. "Not me?"

She raised a playful eyebrow. "Gotcha."

"Ah, of course," he said with a smile, "why would I expect anything else?"

She chuckled, and changed gears. "Are you sure you're okay to go to her wedding?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Are you sure?" she asked skeptically. "Not to dredge up old wounds or anything, but I can't imagine it'll be easy watching her marry another man, especially not after your rooftop rendezvous."

"That was just the goodbye kiss we never had."

She didn't say anything for a moment. "Am I not asking too quietly?" she joked after he didn't elaborate.

He laughed, and continued. "Kyra and I, we never really broke up."

"Than boy, you guys have cheated on each other a _lot_."

"Mmm, funny!" he shot back, a good-natured twinkle in his eye. "No, we sort of ended on a miscommunication. She was moving to London, and I was going to go with her but she told me she needed space. See, I thought that was girl code for 'we're breaking up,' so I never went. But what she really meant was 'I just need some space.' Go figure."

Kate winced inwardly at the unfortunate heartbreak he brought upon himself. "So you stayed here, heartbroken, thinking that she didn't want you, and she was there, waiting for you, only to become heartbroken when you never showed up."

"Yep," Rick sighed. "Whoever says I'm good with women is sadly mistaken. I've spent over 15 years subconsciously missing one woman while, at the same time, sabotaging my relationships with others."

"Do you think that's why your marriages didn't work?" she asked quietly.

"I didn't realize it at the time, but now? Absolutely." He shrugged. "I was afraid of getting hurt like that again, so I didn't really invest everything in anyone after her. When Meredith cheated, I was able to bounce right back because I was never entirely with her in the first place. Hindsight really is 20/20, huh?"

She chuckled. "You can say that again."

"Hindsight really is 20/20, huh?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, thank you."

He grinned. "So anyway, seeing Kyra again was just a really twisted way of breaking up for real. We talked everything out—"

"Among other things."

He made a face at her. "—and finally got some closure."

"Feel good?"

"Right now, it's still a little bittersweet. Ask me tomorrow, and I guarantee that I'll tell you it feels like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders. I can finally close that chapter of my life." He paused. "Well, I don't know. I think a part of me will always love Kyra. But I can definitively say that I'm not _in_ love with her, and that I think I'm finally ready to move on and give all of myself to someone again."

Kate could've sworn her heart skipped a beat when he met her eye, but she played it off. "Whoever she is, I wish her the best of luck. She's gonna need it!"

"You're so lucky I don't have a pen on me, 'cause I'd _so_ throw it at you."

"Oooh, I'm shaking!"

She stood up. He rose as well, and followed her to her desk. "Aw come on, why aren't you afraid of me?"

"Because your threats are empty!" she said, half laughing as she pulled on her coat. "But you know what I _am_ afraid of?"

His eyes lit up. "No, what?"

"Kyra Blaine."

His brow furrowed. "I don't follow."

"Oh come on, you can't tell me that you didn't notice that her initials are KB. So that means I'm the second KB you've dedicated a book to." She narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion. "Am I sloppy seconds? Should I feel cheap?"

"You? Never."

She smiled as she wrapped her scarf around her neck. "Good answer." She picked up her bag and they headed towards the elevator. "You're better with women than you think you are," she joked.

"Note to self," he muttered, miming writing something in the palm of his hand, "flattery is the way to Kate Beckett's heart."

"You wish it was that easy," she shot back, hitting the elevator button.

He laughed. "No I don't! I love a good challenge!"

The elevator doors opened. "In that case," she said mischievously, stepping inside and quickly hitting the 'door close' button before he could enter, "see you tomorrow!"

To her great surprise, he was downstairs waiting for her when the elevator opened on the ground floor. Breathing heavily, he grinned. "You're not getting rid of me that easily!"

She chuckled. "Yes, I'm beginning to realize that."

**Sucker Punch, #1**

"What are they doing? Can you hear anything?" Alexis whispered. She and her grandmother had just retreated upstairs to give her father and Detective Beckett some privacy. But as soon as they'd reached the upstairs landing, they threw themselves onto the ground to eavesdrop.

Martha strained to hear, extending herself from her crouch to stick her head through the banister. "It sounds like…wait…"

"Yeah?" Alexis asked eagerly.

"Nope. I've got nothin'," Martha finished dejectedly, sitting down and crossing her legs in front of her.

Alexis sighed and rested her head on the cool metal bar in front of her. "Damn."

Martha shook her head. "I don't know why we're bothering, it's not like he's going to tell her."

Turning her head against the bar to observe her grandmother, Alexis blew her bangs out of her eyes. "Do you think he ever will?"

"I'm hoping for sometime when I'm still alive, that'd be nice."

Alexis giggled at the same time conversation became audible from downstairs. Martha's eyes grew wide, and she frantically motioned for Alexis to be quiet. They quickly stuck their heads through the banister again, but all was silent. They waited a few moments, and still, nothing happened.

"She wouldn't have killed him, would she?" Alexis whispered.

"It's more likely that he stuffed his foot in his mouth and is now incapable of making any sound," Martha answered with an eye roll.

"What are you ladies up to?"

They jumped, and looked up to see Rick standing above them, arms crossed over his chest and an amused look on his face.

"Uhh—"

"—well, we just—"

"—ya know—"

"Mhm," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, we have business to attend to at the precinct, so I'm gonna head out."

"Oh, okay."

"Be careful."

He appraised them for another moment, eyebrow still raised. "Uh huh. I will." He turned and went downstairs. Alexis and Martha heard Beckett ask a question. "Oh yeah, they were eavesdropping," they heard Rick say in a purposely carrying voice. "I have no privacy in my own home. Isn't it sad?" They heard Beckett laugh, and the door open and close before silence descended on the apartment.

Alexis sat back on her heels and looked at her grandmother, a guilty expression on her face. That didn't last long, though, as she burst out laughing and put her face in her hands. "That was so bad."

**Sucker Punch, #2**

Kate Beckett was curled into a ball on her couch, head on the armrest, buried down in her favorite pair of sweats and a fuzzy blanket. She unearthed one of her hands and held it out in front of her, examining her nails. One appeared to have dirt underneath it, but she knew it was blood. Dick Coonan's blood. She'd scrubbed herself clean of most of it, but couldn't quite bear to get rid of it all. She wasn't really sure why, and found it odd even thinking about it; why would anyone want the blood of their mother's killer under her nail? She certainly didn't want to memorialize him, but rather thought the world was better off without him in it. Maybe it was because of what the blood of her mother's killer meant: that he's dead. She had killed her mother's killer. She just wished she felt better about it. She sighed, and tucked her hand under the blanket again. Not only had she killed a man, but she'd lost the one link they knew of that could lead to the person that ordered a hit on her mother.

She hadn't wanted to kill him. Well, obviously; she didn't want to kill anyone. But she especially wanted to keep _him_ alive and all but torture him until he told her what she needed to know. But then he'd gone and screwed it all up. Yes, she reasoned, it _was_ his fault. He had to go and get all personal, talking about catching her "mommy's" killer. Was that why Castle had broken his nose?

Kate sighed. Castle.

She stood by what she'd said earlier; it absolutely wasn't his fault. Coonan had just been playing with fire, getting really ballsy in the middle of the freaking precinct. And had he not expected some sort of reaction? But the fact that she killed him scared the hell out of her, and it had nothing to do with what he'd done ten years ago.

Montgomery had pulled out his gun, aiming it straight at Coonan's head. She'd freaked out, knowing that this particular piece of scum needed to live. The captain had conceded, and she was in the midst of convincing herself that, despite how horrid a person he was, this was the right thing to do. But then Castle had broken free, and Coonan turned his gun on him. It was as if she was watching it in slow motion. Her mind had gone blank, only one thought fighting through the numbness: _not him too_. At that moment, Coonan wasn't the man that unfortunately held the key to her mother's murder. He was just the man who was about to kill Castle. And she wasn't going to let that happen. So, without a second thought, she shot him in the chest.

Would she have done that for many people? Become so enraged and terrified at the thought that someone was about to shoot them that she'd subconsciously aim at the gunman's heart when she went to defend them? A shot to the shoulder or kneecap would've accomplished the exact same thing. But no, she'd gone for the kill.

Because her subconscious knew what she refused to believe: that Castle meant enough to her that she'd kill to protect him.

And _that_ scared the crap out of her.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she dug it out to see a text from him. She chuckled – it's like he knew she was thinking about him. She flipped her phone open.

_I have someone here who's desperate to mother you. Come over?_

She grinned, and got slightly teary eyed. Did the whole family have to be so damn charming?

_It better not be you._

His response came within seconds, as she'd come to expect from him.

_HA. No, I am definitely not trying to mother you. Feel free to assume my mother is, though. And maybe Alexis._

She laughed.

_Twist my arm. I could use some mothering. Should I bring anything?_

His answer was almost exactly what she was expecting.

_Yes. Yourself. Do I have to tell you how loudly I just sighed?_

She chuckled and stood up, dropping the blanket on the couch before answering.

_Oh shut up, I had to ask. Should I bother changing out of my sweatpants?_

Yet again, she knew the answer before receiving it.

_Absolutely not. My mother says they're required, and is now making me go change into my jammies._

She smiled, and answered as she threw on a pair of boots and a coat, grabbed her bag, and left her apartment.

_Jammies?_

She was really looking forward to seeing his answer to that one, and quickly hailed a cab.

_Yes, Beckett, jammies. Is there a problem?_

She laughed, and startled the driver of the cab she was sliding into.

_There's only a problem if these "jammies" involve you wearing no pants._

Picturing his crooked smile and twinkling eyes when he laughs, she couldn't help but wish she was there to see his reaction.

_Gee thanks, now Alexis is looking at me weird because I'm laughing at what appears to be nothing._

She laughed, earning herself a weird look from the driver in the rearview mirror.

_Hey, do you think I look any more sane to the cabbie? And are you planning on commenting on the no pants thing? Because I'm getting worried._

The cab was pulling up to the curb in front of his building when he responded.

_You'll just have to wait and see, now, won't you? ;)_

She rolled her eyes and paid the fare, stepping outside onto the sidewalk.

_I'd make you tell me if I wasn't right outside. Consider yourself lucky._

She held her phone in her hand as she crossed the lobby and stepped into a conveniently waiting elevator, even though she knew there'd be no reception once inside. She got off on his floor and tread the familiar path to his apartment. Her hand was balled into a fist and about to knock when the door flew open.

Rick looked down at her raised fist. "Didn't you just tell me that you like me? Because now hitting me seems a little counterproductive. Though if that's why you wanted to come over, you could've just said so," he joked.

Kate dropped her arm to her side. "That's what you get for opening the door before I could knock."

"Hey, I told you not to bother knocking!"

Just then, her phone vibrated. She flipped it open to read his last text, delayed due to her time in the elevator. And indeed, it said "_I'll come open the door for you._"

She looked back up at him. "First of all, I was in the elevator when you sent your warning, so getting it right now didn't really do me any good. And second, I don't believe the words 'I like you' were ever uttered." She quirked an eyebrow.

His mouth fell open and his eyes narrowed. "Oh, that is _mean_! You did that on purpose, didn't you? So you can now deny everything!"

"I don't care how mean you say she's been," Kate heard Martha say from somewhere inside the apartment, "but she did _not_ come all the way over here to stand in the hallway." She suddenly appeared next to her son and nudged him out of the way, giving Kate a knowing look. "Honestly, women have to do everything."

Kate grinned as she stepped inside. "Hi Martha."

Martha put her hands on Kate's shoulders. "How are you?" she asked worriedly.

"I'm okay," Kate answered honestly. "Really," she confirmed with a smile upon seeing Martha's disbelieving look.

Martha smiled. "If it was anyone else saying that, I wouldn't believe them." A timer went off in the kitchen. "We made chicken soup," she informed her as she went to attend to the pot on the stove.

"And brownies!" Alexis piped up nervously, entering the room and coming to stand beside her dad. "Chocolate makes everything better."

Kate felt very flattered. "You didn't have to go to this much troub—"

"It was no trouble, really," Alexis said earnestly. "Anything we can do to help."

"Really, anything," Martha confirmed from the kitchen. "I can't even imagine what you must be going through right now."

This last statement seemed to really affect Alexis, who shyly stepped forward and wrapped Kate in a tight hug. Kate was slightly taken aback, but wasted no time in returning the gesture. She caught Rick's eye over the red head nestled against her neck. He was watching them with the look in his eyes that made her heart do an odd sort of flip flop in her chest. She felt her eyes filling with tears again, and mouthed a silent 'thank you' to him.

He smiled softly, and responded with a silent 'anytime.'

And what was it that she'd been scared of?

**The Third Man**

"Nope."

Kate Beckett stilled as she was taking her wallet out of her pocket. "What?"

Rick Castle shot her a look and spoke very slowly. "You're not paying."

She raised her eyebrows, and went into her wallet for cash to pay for her burger, fries, and shake. "Yes I am."

"No, you're not." He snatched the check off of the table.

"Castle—"

"No."

"Just let me pay my half!"

"This is non-negotiable, Beckett."

"I can't keep letting you pay for things."

"What have I paid for?"

"Are you really that rich that you don't even remember dropping a hundred grand to catch an assassin that doesn't actually exist?"

"Okay, that's _one_ thing."

She looked at him incredulously. "It was a hundred thousand dollars, Castle!"

"It was _one thing_!"

"One massively expensive thing!"

"Oh, don't deny that it was worth it."

"Castle, Rathborne doesn't exist. The money's gone, we got _nothing_ for it."

"But we didn't know he didn't exist when we made the deal, did we? It _would've_ been worth it had he not been made up. And no," he said as she opened her mouth to say something, "I'm not letting you argue that one. Now, that's one thing I paid for. Is there anything else?"

She sighed, and pretended to ponder. "Hmm, let's see. What's red, sparkly, and fits me like a glove?"

He grinned. "That was worth it, too."

She threw a fry at him.

"Come on, Beckett!" he said with a laugh, plucking the fry off of his lap. "It's one dinner, let me treat you."

She glowered for a moment before returning her money to her wallet. "Fine. But next time, I'm paying."

He perked up. "Next time?"

She threw a fry at him.

* * *

A/N: sorry for ruining the illusion of ice bullets! lol. but seriously, the writers need to catch up on their MythBusters. coincidentally, they also tested whether or not a book can be bulletproof ... i'm still trying to figure out if the scenario on the show is possible. does anyone watch MythBusters or know about gun calibers? because they found that a hardcover book that's at least 400 pages long can stop a .22 rifle shot. Crime and Punishment is a soft cover but obnoxiously long, so that much i'll believe, but the gun used on Castle is 9mm ... how strong is that in relation to .22?  
reviews are love! :D


	7. Episodes 2x15, 16, 17, 18

...i don't think i quite realized that it was going to take two months for them to give us four new episodes -_- ... i apologize for the uber-wait. but i'm back! yay! it feels good to be inspired again, as you can probably tell by the length of these stories. what can i say? i'm wordy, lol. anyway, i have a disclaimer about the story for Boom, but i'll put it at the end to avoid spoiling it. hope you enjoy! :]

* * *

**Suicide Squeeze**

Kate Beckett wouldn't necessarily call herself a betting woman. When the opportunity arose, she'd surely throw her two cents in, and she'd rarely turn down a poker invitation. But she prided herself on her frugality, and wouldn't just toss her money into the wind. Which is why, had you bet her a year ago that someday she'd be in Central Park with Rick Castle, his daughter, and her beat-up old baseball glove, she would've laughed in your face. And yet, that's where she found herself today.

"_You what?!"_

"_I broke the window."_

_Kate had put her face in her free hand, and adjusted her phone against her ear. "And how, pray tell, did you manage that?"_

"_I told you already, Alexis and I were playing catch."_

"_That doesn't explain how the ball went through the window."_

"…_I missed."_

_She sighed. "That's what happens when small children play catch inside the house."_

"_Funnily enough, that's exactly what the repairman said."_

_She fought to suppress a smile. "And why did you call to tell me all of this?"_

"_I was wondering if you'd consent to give me a lesson."_

"_A baseball lesson?"_

"_Please?" came Alexis's voice, slightly muffled as the phone wasn't on speaker. "He's hopeless!"_

"_Hey!" Rick exclaimed._

_Kate laughed. "Hopeless, huh?"_

"_I wouldn't go as far as hopeless…"_

"_Just bad enough to put a ball through your window."_

"_Yeah, basically."_

"Well, you're right. You're not hopeless," she said hesitantly, after sprinting to her right to just barely catch Rick's throw. "You have the general idea."

"Seriously?" Alexis asked in disbelief.

Kate laughed as she walked over to Rick to correct his form. "Seriously. There are obviously some things going seriously wrong, but it could definitely be worse. You could just be pushing the ball."

"Pushing it?" he asked.

She held the ball in her throwing hand and mimed the incorrect technique. "Yeah, otherwise known as 'throwing like a girl.' Basically like throwing a shot put. Stiff wrist, no arm movement. See, you know how to throw the right way, you're just doing it wrong."

"Okay, I'm all ears. Teach me."

"Right. Alexis, would you mind going over there to be our fielder? Thanks," she called, as the girl grabbed her glove and scurried off to stand where Kate had been moments before. She turned back to Rick. "Okay. Two things."

"One at a time, please, otherwise my head might explode."

She rolled her eyes in amusement, and continued. "First, you need to step in the direction of your target."

"Target?" Alexis asked in mock fear.

Rick made a face at her, and Kate thwacked his arm lightly with her glove to get his attention. "As I was _saying_," she said as his gaze fell on her once again, "if you don't lead with your legs, it doesn't matter how good the rest of your technique is. Your throw is always going to go in the direction your body is facing. Get it?"

He nodded. "I think so."

"Show me."

She stepped aside and watched him step carefully in Alexis's direction before throwing the ball in a high arc. Alexis had to leap into the air and use every bit of her height to her advantage, but caught the throw.

"Okay, good!" Kate said encouragingly. "That's better!" She deftly caught Alexis's return throw. "How'd it feel?"

"Better," he agreed.

She nodded. "So the only other thing that you're doing wrong is letting go of the ball too early. That's why your throws are high and arced instead of more direct."

"Really?" he asked. "It's that simple?"

"It's that simple."

"Huh," he mused. "But how do I know what's too early?"

"Trial and error."

"So, lots of practice?"

"Bingo."

Half an hour and dozens of throws later, Rick waved the white flag. "Alright, you win," he panted, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

Kate chuckled and jogged in from the field, having switched places with Alexis. "I'm surprised you lasted this long."

"Hey, I might be a noob, but I'm not a pansy." He groaned and lay down on his back. "I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow. Wait," he said suddenly, holding up a hand. "That's what she said."

"Dad," Alexis groaned, "you can't 'that's what she said' something _you_ said."

"Just being preemptive, sweetie."

Kate shook her head. "Are you ever too tired to make an innuendo?"

Rick chuckled and closed his eyes. "Never."

"Ah well," she sighed, "wishful thinking on my part."

He took a deep breath and sat up. "Thanks for helping me out," he said, removing the ball from his glove and tossing it up to her.

She caught it in her bare hand. "Yeah, well, I couldn't let Alexis spend her entire youth with a dad that can't play catch."

"In that case, thank you for helping me to be a better dad."

She smiled. "Glad I could help." She tossed the ball back to him, and he caught it clumsily. "I'll see you tomorrow." She turned to Alexis. "It was good seeing you again. Let me know if you ever need to know how to throw a football. Or juggle a soccer ball. Ya know, dad stuff."

Alexis laughed. "I will!"

Kate turned and crouched down next to Rick, smiling slightly. He looked happily confused, as if he didn't know quite what she was doing but liked where it looked like it was going. "Castle," she said softly.

"Yeah?"

She grinned. "You have grass in your hair." She reached out and ruffled the hair on the back of his head and, indeed, several grass stalks fell out.

She could hear Alexis's laughter and feel Rick's eyes on her until she exited the park.

**The Mistress Always Spanks Twice**

"Oh, stop sulking, Castle," Kate Beckett said with an amused grin. She glanced over at the writer, who was sitting in the passenger seat and gazing sulkily out the window.

He turned to look at her, eyes narrowed. "You signed me up for a session with a dominatrix!"

"So? It's not like we've never used unorthodox methods to solve a case before."

"Yeah, but they're usually _my_ idea," he said, his face screwing into a rather adorable pout.

"They're not so much fun on the other end, now, are they?" she asked as if she were speaking to a small child. "Man, the number of times I've had to deal with prostitutes…" she muttered.

He made a face.

She chuckled. "Man up! Come on, you're the one who bought those ridiculous handcuffs."

"But they're _fuzzy_!" he exclaimed, fishing them out of his pocket and shoving them under her nose, "It's not the same!"

This time, she full on laughed, and swatted them away. "What happened to the man that said 'yes, _I_ know where Dungeon Alley is'?"

"It was for _research_," he countered. "I never said I took advantage of the services being offered."

"Wait a second," she said suddenly, holding up a hand. "Am I hearing this correctly? Is Richard Castle really admitting that he's not quite as sexually adventurous as he makes everyone think he is?"

"Go ahead, laugh it up. But you're no 'freakier' than I am, ma'am. Case in point?" He spun his handcuffs around his index finger pointedly.

She raised an eyebrow. "My daily life isn't freaky enough?"

He paused. "Okay," he conceded. "You get some leeway. Still don't understand why you're not into the handcuffs, though…" he trailed off, and looked innocently out the window.

She sighed. "Let's put it this way. Would you want to have sex with someone who was holding onto one of your books while you two were doing the deed?"

"Um, not especially, no."

"Exactly. Work and sex don't mix. Handcuffs are work."

"Mmm," he mused. "That's a shame."

"Neckties and scarves are fair game, though," she said casually, "And much comfier than handcuffs."

After a few seconds without a response, she glanced at him, only to see him staring out the windshield through glassy eyes. "What, no comeback?"

He cleared his throat weakly. "Just waiting for blood to return to my brain."

**Tick, Tick, Tick…**

12:13.

1:34.

2:28.

3:17.

Kate Beckett scowled at her clock, whose glowing red numbers suddenly seemed more taunting than informative. She should be asleep. She _knew_ she should; it had been a long, taxing couple of days, and she was exhausted. Her body, however, had a mind of its own, and simply wouldn't shut down. Her eyes were itchy and tired, but wouldn't close for any significant amount of time, and these stupid little cat naps left her lying awake, staring at whatever caught her attention, subconsciously straining her ears for the slightest little noise.

With a huff, she got out of bed and padded quietly to the door, slipping into the hallway. She wasn't exactly sure what she was looking for, but the sight that greeted her certainly wasn't what she'd expected.

"Castle?"

He was sitting up on the couch as if he had been for hours, feet on the floor, elbows resting on his knees, gazing distractedly at a spot on the coffee table.

At the sound of her voice, he looked up, surprised. "What are you doing up?" he asked.

She silently berated herself for thinking about how sexy his voice sounded when he was half whispering. "Can't sleep," she answered simply, making her way to the kitchen. As she filled a glass with tap water, she heard him stand up and join her. "Ya know, I could ask you the same question." She turned to find him leaning against the counter next to her, and mimicked his position.

"And I could give you the same answer."

"What, is my couch not up to your standards?" She cocked an eyebrow and took a sip of water.

He chuckled. "Puh-lease, I can fall asleep anywhere."

"Anywhere but here?" She observed him over the rim of her glass, suddenly very curious.

He hesitated, and sighed. "Believe me, I would _love_ to fall asleep here."

"But?"

"But there's just a little too much on my mind."

She smiled wryly. "_Your_ mind? And who was it who said something to the effect of 'there's a madman gunning for you'—"

"Exactly," he broke in sharply. "There's a madman gunning for you."

That shut Kate up. She was touched at how worried he appeared to be, which must've shown on her face, because when he continued it was in a much softer tone of voice. "Do you think that fact doesn't terrify me?"

She sighed, her brave façade quickly crumbling as it so often did around him. "That makes two of us," she nearly whispered. Without him having to say a thing, she could hear him asking her to continue, so she did. "I know the threat of death is a part of my job. And yes, I've been shot at, attacked, you name it…" she trailed off. "But that was all just because I'm a cop. It could've been anyone else on the receiving end. It wasn't personal." She looked down at the glass she still held in her hands and rubbed a thumb along the rim. "This is new. And it sucks."

He shifted closer to her so their arms brushed; she felt oddly comforted by the contact between them. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm so, so sorry."

She shook her head. "I wasn't blaming you."

"I know, but that doesn't stop me from feeling like this is my fault."

"It's not—"

"The _killing_'s not, but this?" He gestured to her. "This is. The fact that he's after _you_ is my fault."

"_No_, it's not. Yeah, you put me in the public eye, but you didn't tell him to try and hunt me down. And if you did, then you need to leave."

He chuckled. "Does that mean I get to stay if I didn't?"

It was her turn to chuckle. "Do I have a choice in the matter?"

"Not really, no."

"Okay, well, glad we had this discussion."

He laughed, and they lapsed into comfortable silence. It was a few moments before he spoke again. "Well, I must say, I'm enjoying this experience with the FBI much more than I did last time."

She rolled her eyes, not so much at him, but at the fact that the FBI existed. "Glad someone has fun when they're around."

"Is someone a little bit biased against the feds?"

"No."

"A likely story."

"Number one: that's rich, coming from the man who concocts the unlikeliest of stories on a daily basis. And number two: I used to date a fed, remember?"

"Exactly. You _used to_. Hence, bias."

"You are _ridiculous_."

"What happened to Mr. 'Used To,' anyway? Last time I saw him it looked like he'd want to hang around for awhile."

She chewed her lip for a moment, pondering the best way to answer. "Let's just say it's his loss."

Rick was quiet for a few seconds. "Well, it certainly isn't _your_ loss."

She chuckled. "Thanks."

"No, really. He's a complete tool."

Huh? She glanced at him, puzzled. "What's got your panties in a twist?"

He shook his head bitterly. "Just something he said to me."

"What was it?"

_Oh, he just insinuated that he was going to try and get you back. Good to know he followed through. Asshole. _"It's nothing. You're better off not knowing."

"Castle?"

"Hm?"

"Tell me."

"Are you sure?"

"Do I _sound_ unsure?"

He chuckled. "Fine. He accused me of being jealous of the two of you—"

"What? Why? There was nothing to be jealous of!"

"Exactly what I said! But he's all," he lowered his voice to mock Sorenson's, "'we'll see about that.'"

She raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Really."

"Ew."

"See? And did he make good on that statement? No. Because he's a tool."

"Hm. Now I might be slightly biased against the feds."

"Now that I think about it, me too."

"Even with Special Agent Shaw and her super cool gadgets?" she asked, sarcastically enthusiastic.

"Special Agent who?"

She laughed, which turned into a yawn.

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm that riveting, huh?"

She slapped his arm good-naturedly. "I think I'm gonna try and get some sleep," she said, pushing off the counter.

"Three hours is better than nothing," he agreed.

"Marginally." She turned to face him. "And, as comfortable as my couch is, a bed is significantly better. So if you want to go home to sleep in yours, I'm not stopping you."

He smiled. "'Night."

"Not 'until tomorrow'?"

"It _is_ tomorrow."

"Oh, so _now_ you decide to get all logical on me?"

"Hey, it's 3:30 in the morning! Cut me some slack!"

She laughed as she headed towards her room. "Never!" she called over her shoulder.

In the blink of an eye, it was 7 a.m. Kate rubbed her eyes blearily; she must've passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow. She slowly got out of bed and, as she opened her door, wondered vaguely if she still had a guest. Her eyes fell on the couch, which was neatly made up. A part of her was slightly disappointed that he'd left already, but— wait, she didn't remember plugging in a breakfast-scented air freshener… nor had her spatula made a habit of clanking against the grill on its own accord…

She looked into the kitchen. "You're still here," she observed, "…and you're making pancakes?"

**Boom!**

"Welcome hooome," Rick Castle said in a falsely cheery singsong voice as he led Kate Beckett into his (read: their) apartment.

She smiled wearily.

"You want some coffee?" he asked, draping his coat over a chair and tossing his keys onto the counter.

She nodded, and sank into a chair. "Yeah, that'd be great."

He looked at his watch. "It's kinda late. Is decaf okay?"

She nodded and shrugged half-heartedly. "Sure."

"Alrighty," he clapped his hands and started rifling through a cabinet, finding the coffee beans rather quickly. "I wonder if Alexis would want any… No, she's probably asleep already. What I did to deserve a daughter like her, I'll never know."

"Oh, son of a—!" Kate cried suddenly, leaping to her feet.

Rick whirled around. "What?" he asked anxiously.

She was pressing her phone to her ear, having already dialed the number, and was pacing feverishly. "I haven't called my dad."

His stomach dropped. "God, he's probably worried sick!"

She nodded, worry creasing her own face. "I know." She suddenly stopped pacing. "Dad!"

He could hear, albeit very indistinctly, the distressed voice of Kate's father emanating from the phone. His heart went out to the man; he couldn't imagine the blinding worry of not knowing whether or not your daughter was alive or dead. The explosion had undoubtedly been on the news, but the police had kept all details, including news of any potential casualties, from the press.

"I know," Kate was saying, her voice betraying that she was doing everything in her power not to get choked up, "I'm so sorry, I just got really wrapped up in—" She paused, listening, and looked marginally guiltier. "I wish I could, dad, but the guy's still out there, and I don't feel like dragging my security detail—"

"Tell him to come here," Rick interrupted.

She looked at him. "Are you sure? I don't want to—"

"'Don't want to' nothing," he said firmly. "Give him the address."

A moment of understanding passed as they held each other's gaze, and she complied. "Dad?" she said into the phone. "I'm staying at Castle's, you can come here." She paused, presumably waiting for her dad to get a pen and paper, before reciting her makeshift address.

After hanging up, she took a deep breath and put her face in her hands. "I'm a terrible daughter," she mumbled.

Ten minutes later, Rick wasn't sure if she could've proven herself more wrong. At the sharp knocking, she'd leapt to her feet and crossed the room before he could even blink, and flung the door open. In a matter of milliseconds and a whirlwind of arms, Kate was wrapped tightly in her father's embrace, face buried in his shoulder.

Jim Beckett looked almost exactly like Rick had pictured him; tall, with deep silver hair that made him look dignified rather than old, and a kind, fatherly face. A face that was currently overcome with emotion.

"God, Katie," he whispered into his daughter's hair, "Don't scare me like that."

Rick smiled, and headed quietly upstairs.

Kate hadn't wanted to completely fall apart when she saw her dad. She'd made it clear to herself that she was to remain fully in control. But, as they say, the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. As soon as she found herself in his arms, it took everything she had not to lose it completely, and it would've taken the jaws of life to make her let go. Which is why, when they made their way over to the couch, she curled into his side, resting her head on his chest.

They sat for several moments in silence before she spoke. "Dad, I'm so sorry…" her voice broke, and she trailed off.

He shook his head, and held her tighter. "You don't know how worried I was."

"No, I do," she sniffled. "I know how it was when I first started out, how bad your drinking was, I should've called sooner."

"Yes, you should've," he admonished, half-jokingly, still unwilling to be too hard on the daughter that he so easily could've lost.

She swallowed thickly. "I lost your watch," she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. "I found mom's ring, and I kept looking, it just…I…"

He chuckled softly, and ran a finger down her cheek. "Don't worry about it. You're alive. That's all that matters."

"But—"

"Katie."

"Yeah?"

"Stop worrying about things you have no control over."

She was quiet for a moment, and picked at a stray thread on his shirt. "But worrying about the watch is less stressful than worrying about the other stuff." She chuckled bitterly. "Not only do I not have a house, but I lost most of my possessions, _and_ got kicked off the case."

He sighed. "I know it's hard. And believe me, if I ever come across this guy, he will _not _be making it home in one piece." She chuckled. "But Katie, think about what you've gained."

"What, some first-degree burns and a mild case of smoke inhalation?" she answered sardonically.

Jim chuckled. "'Atta girl!" Kate grinned. "But wrong answer."

She tilted her head to look at him and raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"Look at all the people that've rallied behind you," he said.

She sighed, and laid her head back down. "I know," she said quietly, returning to play absentmindedly with the thread. "I know."

"These are some swanky living arrangements you've got going on," he commented casually.

She chuckled. "You wanna stay here instead?"

"Oh, I don't think I'm quite the houseguest Mr. Castle had in mind."

"If you two are talking about me, I hope you're at least saying nice things!"

The two Becketts looked up to see Rick coming down the stairs. Kate sat up, always feeling awkward being seen in such a vulnerable position. Jim stood, a smile on his face. "After everything you've done for my daughter, I reserve the right to say bad things only in the most extenuating of circumstances."

Rick laughed, and extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Beckett."

"Actually, it's Colonel Beckett," Jim said seriously, a threatening glint in his eye. He let Rick stew for a moment, before shooting him a friendly smile. "I'm only kidding! Please, call me Jim. Mr. Beckett is my dad," he said good-naturedly, taking Rick's hand and gripping it in a firm handshake.

Kate rubbed a hand down in her face. "I don't know whether I should be mortified or thrilled."

"Thrilled?" Jim asked.

"That Castle finally got a taste of his own medicine." She looked at Rick pointedly, barely concealing a smile.

He feigned shock. "You're _still _going to be mean to me?!"

"Yes."

"Even after I let you stay in my home?"

"Yes. And for the record, you and the captain made me stay here."

"Even after I saved your life?"

"Whoa whoa whoa," Jim broke in, turning to his daughter. "He saved your life?"

"And you didn't tell him?" Rick asked.

Kate looked up at the two of them, arguably the two most important men in her life, tag-teaming her. "What the hell is this?!" she cried, half laughing. "Dad, you're supposed to be on my side!"

"The man saved your life, Katie. I would hope you're on his side, too," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled, pretending to be more reluctant than she actually was, and stood up. "So they say."

"Wait, what? Who's 'they'?" Rick asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she answered innocently.

He raised an eyebrow.

Jim chuckled. "Well, I think I'm going to head home now."

"You sure?" Rick asked. "You're welcome to stay for awhile."

"Oh, no thank you, I just came to reaffirm the fact that my daughter's still alive, and I think I've successfully done that." He smiled. "But that's very kind of you, I appreciate it." He took Kate's hand, and they headed for the door.

Upon reaching it, Jim wrapped his daughter in a hug. "Take care of yourself, will ya?"

She laughed. "Hey, _I_ do. It's other people that don't have any regard for my life."

He stepped back and, speaking now to Rick, pointed at Kate. "Take care of her."

Rick saluted. "Yes, colonel."

Jim laughed and, waving a final goodbye, stepped into the hallway. Kate closed the door behind him, hand lingering on the handle as if she didn't quite want him to go.

"You're so much like him."

She turned around to face Rick, and smiled, shyly proud. "Thanks."

"Why didn't you tell me we'd get along?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because there were some bigger things on my mind."

"Okay, okay, I'll give you that. Sooooo," he drawled happily, changing the subject, "You're on my side now, huh?"

Narrowing her eyes, she bit her tongue and didn't answer.

"Well, I'd like to welcome you on behalf of all of Team Castle."

She shook her head. "Sorry, I'm on no team other than Team Beckett."

"Hm," he pondered, "then we have to combine them somehow. Oooh, I know, how about one of those horrible Hollywood couple names!"

She shot him a look. "Is that really necessary?"

"Yes."

She ignored him. "I think I'm ready for that coffee now."

She circled the counter and began making coffee while Rick sat in contemplative silence. Suddenly his eyes lit up. "Caskett."

Kate looked up. "Come again?"

"Castle…plus Beckett…"

Her mouth fell open. "…is Caskett," she finished. After a moment of silence, their eyes met, and she burst out laughing. "That's too great!"

He grinned. "So you don't hate it?"

"Oh, no, I hate it," she answered, still chortling, pouring beans into the machine. "It's just a fantastic coincidence."

He held up a hand out towards her. At her perplexed look, he said, "For not saying it's ironic."

She grinned, and they high-fived.

"But we are _not_ Team Caskett."

"Fiiiiine."

* * *

first, i'd like to dedicate this last story to my dad :]. second, i don't know about you guys, but when i'm upset, getting a really good hug from someone who cares (my dad especially) always makes me cry more. i thought it'd be appropriate for Beckett to have the same reaction, considering he's her only parent left. and third, yes, i know it's really improbable that Beckett's dad wouldn't call to see if she's okay, but i really wanted to write Beckett freaking out about worrying him. and then, of course, falling apart a little when she finally got to see him. so i tweaked the circumstances so i could write what i wanted to ... creative liberty. ;]

thank you all so much for reading/reviewing/favoriting! and on my older stuff too! seriously, it makes me really happy to get an email saying the second story i ever wrote was just favorited. posting something you wrote for the world to see is really scary, but you guys make it awesome.


	8. Episodes 2x19, 20, 21

A/N: surprise! :D lol. so, when i originally planned to update four episodes at a time, there were only going to be 22 episodes in season 2, which would've made this the last installment (until season 3, that is). but honestly, this week-long hiatus was telling me to update now, meaning there's only three episodes here. but there'll be three next time instead of two, so it all evens out.  
oh, and just a quick precursor: Wrapped Up in Death made me believe i'm kind of clairvoyant, for the reason you will see below. if you're confused, take a quick trip back to my story for 2x11. :]  
alright, i'll shut up now. enjoy!

* * *

**Wrapped Up in Death**

"So."

Rick Castle looked up from his cautious perch in the chair next to Kate Beckett's desk to see Ryan and Esposito looking at him appraisingly. "Yes?"

"Why the hell were you on the floor of the elevator?" Esposito asked accusingly.

"Yeah, man," Ryan chimed in. "Everyone knows you're supposed to jump if an elevator falls."

"No you're not," Kate said without looking up from the case file.

Rick pointed at her, as if to say 'yeah, what she said.'

"Sure you are," Ryan countered.

"Cancels out some of the downward velocity," Esposito said logically.

"No it doesn't," Kate said, again without looking up.

"The elevator falls way too fast for a human jump to matter in the grand scheme of things," Rick added.

Kate nodded, and made a note in the file. "The impact force is still lethal even if you jump."

"And the evidence that says otherwise really isn't evidence at all."

"A woman _did _survive a 75-floor fall in an elevator, but it was because the elevator shaft created an air cushion."

"Yeah, that and the elevator cable formed a makeshift spring at the bottom."

"So the car was slowed to survivable speeds."

"After falling that fast, it might even be impossible for a person to jump in the first place."

"The force would be too high."

"Yes. Aaaaand," Rick emphasized, "Elevator experts speculate that lying on the floor of a falling elevator would do you the most good."

Their explanation was met with a moment of silence.

"Ummm," Ryan said hesitantly, "Did we miss something?"

"Yeah, how do you two know this?" Esposito asked.

Rick and Kate looked at each other. "MythBusters," they said in unison.

Kate cocked her head. "Wow, you really _did_ start watching after I said you should!"

He shrugged. "What can I say? They blow things up. And Kari's pretty hot."

She rolled her eyes and stood up, closing the folder and tucking it under her arm. "I walked into that one."

He laughed. "Is there a new episode on this week?"

"Ya know, I'm not sure. The schedule's been kinda weird lately…" The conversation faded as they headed for the break room.

Ryan and Esposito looked at each other.

"Explosions?"

"And a hot girl?"

"Dude, we need to watch this show."

"Your place or mine?"

**The Late Shaft**

"Hey Beckett!"

Kate Beckett looked up from her paperwork to see Ryan headed towards her, a plastic bag full of what looked suspiciously like Chinese takeout containers in one hand.

"What's up?" she asked.

He stopped next to her desk. "You gonna watch Castle on Bobby Mann tonight?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Don't I get enough of him while he's here? I have to watch him on TV too?"

Ryan grinned. "Oh, don't give me that."

"Give you what?"

"You're still a _fan_ of his, of course you're going to watch! And, since we're both partnerless for the evening," he held up the bag of food, "I was thinking we could make a date of it."

"Where's Esposito?"

"Do you really think he wants to watch Castle on TV? Because he actually does have the attitude you're pretending to have." He dangled the bag in front of her nose. "Come on, you know you want to."

Kate pursed her lips to keep from smiling. "Well, I _am_ a sucker for a free meal."

"Who said it's free?"

She glared at him and snatched the bag out of his hand. He grinned, and took that as his cue to perch himself on her desk; after working with Beckett for as long as he had, he'd learned to read her looks.

This fact was not lost on Kate, and she smiled inwardly as the two divvied up the food.

"Ya know," she said, tossing him a pair of chopsticks, which he deftly caught, "you _can_ sit in a chair."

"Nah," he said, popping open a container, "then your head'll be in the way of the TV."

"Are you implying that I have a big head?"

Ryan feigned offense. "Would _I_ do that?"

She chuckled. "You're probably the last person on this team that would."

"Remember that the next time you want to make fun of me," he said with a laugh.

The two lapsed into comfortable silence, punctured only by the sounds of chewing and cheesy commercial jingles emanating from the TV. Ryan took this opportunity to observe the woman he affectionately calls "boss." After everything that had happened in recent weeks, he'd worried that life would take its toll on her. But she looked good, considering. Maybe a little tired, but in this line of work, tired is nothing new. And she looked like she was brooding a bit. Now _that_ was a bit odd, as they currently had no case to work on.

"Something on your mind?" he asked.

Kate looked at him, almost sheepishly. "No, it's nothing."

"It's not nothing."

"Okay, it's not nothing, but it's stupid."

"I don't care."

She raised her eyebrows, rather touched. "Wow."

"What?"

"You're willing to listen to a woman talk about a problem _she_ thinks is stupid?"

He shrugged. "I've got a girlfriend and four sisters. I get it."

She smiled. "Jenny's a lucky girl."

"Oh I know."

She laughed, and rolled her eyes.

"Is it Castle?"

"What?" she asked, taken aback.

"Your problem. Is it Castle?"

She thought about protesting for a moment, but deemed it futile, sighing in defeat. "Sort of."

"Care to elaborate a tad?"

"It's just…" she trailed off, rolling a chopstick absentmindedly between her fingers. "I don't really like TV Castle."

"TV Castle?"

"Yeah." She jerked her head in the direction of the TV, implying she was talking about the Castle that only shows himself on the screen. "The devil-may-care, slick-talking, playboy—"

"Flirt."

Kate was momentarily lost for words. "No, I don't care that he flirts," she lied quickly. "I care that he pretends he's someone that he's clearly not."

"'Cause you like the person he is when he's not pretending."

"Tell anyone and—"

"You'll kill me, yeah yeah, I know."

She chuckled, and a couple of seconds slipped past in silence before she jumped in again – she couldn't help it. "It just bothers me to no end that he presents himself to the world as a complete sleaze, because he's really not. Yes, he sometimes makes me feel like a babysitter, and sometimes I want to gouge out his eyes to keep him from staring at me," (at this, Ryan hid his guffaw in a cough,) "but he's generally well-intentioned. And nobody has any idea. See, guaranteed, tonight he'll be all over…" she trailed off as she flipped through the guide on the TV to Bobby Mann Live, and hit info to see who the other guest was, "Ellie Monroe. He'll be _all over_ her. Guaranteed."

"See, I don't know about that," he said contemplatively. "He knows Alexis is going to be watching. My guess is that Ellie Monroe will be all over him."

"And he won't be saying no, that's for sure," she grumbled, using an unnecessary amount of force to pick some noodles out of her container.

"Well, it won't be too hard for you to pick on him. You know what they say."

Kate looked at him. "What?"

Ryan grinned as the intro music for Bobby Mann's show filled the bullpen. "That the camera adds ten pounds!"

She laughed, and shot him an appreciative look. "Remind me to get you something really nice for your birthday."

**Den of Thieves, #1**

"Parish."

"You said you _had_ a pool going?"

Lanie Parish rolled her eyes and held her phone between her head and her shoulder, freeing her hands so she could continue sterilizing lab equipment. "Kate Beckett, when are you going to start conforming to normal social standards?"

"Oh. Right. Sorry." She cleared her throat. "Hi Lanie."

Lanie smiled. "Much better. And to answer your question, yes, there was a pool."

"Was?"

"Yes."

"As in past tense?"

"Yeah, thankfully, otherwise I might _still_ be draining my paychecks into that thing."

Kate could almost hear her friend shaking her head at herself. "So it's gone now?"

"That _is_ what 'past tense' means, isn't it?"

Silence.

"Why, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just… why'd everyone want to get rid of it?"

Lanie sighed. "Most of them have given up hoping. Sayin' if it hasn't happened by now, who's to say when it will, if ever."

More silence.

"You there?"

"Yeah."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You're awfully quiet. Wait! Did you and Castle make out? Wait, just keep it a secret until the weekend, I can restart the pool and win some of my money back—"

"No, Lanie," Kate broke in, her voice barely concealing a laugh, "Nothing happened."

"Oh. Than dang, girl, why're you so quiet?"

At her friend's pause, Lanie grinned. Sometimes, a silence could say so much more than words could. Suddenly, the morgue door burst open, and a corpse-clad gurney was pushed in. "Shoot, a body just rolled in. I gotta run."

"Alright. Talk to you later."

"Bye."

Lanie hung up the phone, a bemused smile on her face. Yeah, they'd get there eventually. She really _should_ restart the pool. This inside connection might just help her break even again. Sighing, she looked at her phone. "You love him, you idiot!" she told it forcefully, as if Kate was still listening. "You love him, and one day you're gonna—" She looked up to see Perlmutter staring at her curiously.

She chuckled awkwardly. "I was just talking to Beckett about Castle," she clarified.

He blinked. "I'm surrounded by crazy people."

"Takes one to know one."

He shrugged halfheartedly. "Not arguing. But those two take the cake."

"Right?" Lanie sighed. "Can they just go to bed together already?"

"And stop having eye sex over my dead bodies?"

"Hey, at least you didn't lose any money on them."

He smiled smugly. "My lack of faith in people is well founded."

She shook her head, amused. "It's a good thing you work with dead people."

**Den of Thieves, #2**

It had been a knee-jerk reaction.

"Is there something going on between you and Beckett?"

Rick Castle had heard that question asked of him more times than he could count, and always the answer was the same.

"No, we just work together, that's all."

But never had the question been asked in the context it had been asked in today. Rick was fairly certain that his mother, his daughter, his agent, Ryan, Esposito, and copious amounts of reporters were not interested in dating her.

But Demming was.

Rick sighed, and took a swig of his beer. A stupid knee-jerk reaction. You know where else he'd like to jerk his knee? Right into Demming's—

No. He stopped himself. As much as he hated to admit it, he liked Demming. He's a good cop, a very knowledgeable guy. Unlike Sorenson, he didn't whine about having another guy hanging around. The fact that he coached an underprivileged youth basketball team _might_ make him a little too good to be true, but hey, at least he didn't run into a burning building to save a bunch of puppies.

But the fact that he liked Demming, and knew that he and Kate would probably be good together, just made Rick hate him all the more.

"What are you brooding about?"

Rick turned to see his mother coming down the stairs. "Don't you not live here anymore?"

She waved the question off, and sat on the barstool next to him. "Come on. Richard Castle doesn't get upset about just anything."

"I'm not upset," he said defensively.

"Is it Detective Beckett?"

"No…"

"Who's the other guy?"

"What?"

"He must be a pretty big deal to have you this nervous."

"Mother!"

"What?" she laughed. "Darling, no one else has a hold on your emotions like she does. So spill the beans. Who else is after her heart?"

"I didn't say I'm after her heart," he said, defensive again.

"Your eyes do."

He sighed, knowing that he'd been beaten. "His name's Tom Demming. He's a robbery detective."

"Ooh, hard to compete with a man with a badge."

"Yes, thank you, mother," he said bitterly, putting his beer bottle to his lips once again.

"Touchy, are we?"

"Yes, well, like you said, it's hard to compete with a man with a badge."

"But you're going to, right?"

He shrugged defeatedly. "What can I do? If she wants him, she wants him." Martha smacked him on the back of the head. "Ow!" he cried. "What was that for?!"

"For being an idiot!" She tweaked his ear.

"Ow! Mother! What the hell?!"

"So that's it? You're just going to let her go, huh?"

"At the risk of getting physically assaulted again, I don't really know what else I _can_ do."

She shook her head sadly. "Have I taught you nothing?"

"That's a loaded question."

"Fight for her!" she cried exasperatedly. "Don't just let it be! Go out and show her that no other man is as good for her as you." She punctuated her last few words with sharp pokes to his shoulder.

He rubbed it, wincing slightly. "You think?"

"Think? Honey, I know. You wanna know what else I know? That every girl wants a man to fight for her. And another thing?" He nodded. "You've never fought for a girl in your entire life."

"Excuse me?"

"Girls have loved you your whole life, you've never had any problems getting one you wanted. You let Kyra go to London without a fight, you let Meredith leave you alone with Alexis without a fight, you let Gina…. Well, no, it was a good idea to let Gina leave."

"Thank you."

"But this one's different," Martha continued. "Kate Beckett is _different_. And I know you know it. So why aren't you _acting_ any different?"

Rick didn't know how to answer, primarily because he didn't really know why he wasn't acting any differently. And honestly, the thought of examining himself and his actions so thoroughly was rather disconcerting. So he deflected; "Would it make you feel better if I told you Alexis won you a Bulgari purse?"

She sighed and narrowed her eyes, understanding that that meant he was done with the conversation. "This isn't over."

"I know," he said, sighing heavily and rubbing a hand down his face. "I know."

* * *

A/N: all elevator info courtesy of MythBusters episode "Elevator of Death" -- am i good or what?! lol.  
leave me love! (or hate, i guess that's cool too. :P)


	9. Episodes 2x22, 23, 24

A/N: and here we are with the last installment of the season :(. just some pre-reading notes...  
-2x22's story is in a weird style. didn't really mean for it to happen, it just flowed that way.  
-2x23's story was originally meant to be funny, but the underlying angst of the episode sorta turned it a little mean.  
-and, as for 2x24 (#2), i totally interpreted Gina waaayyy differently than everyone else! and i'm sorry, there's no way Castle was as clueless as he appeared to be in the episode. there's just no way. i find that thinking about the situation the way i wrote it makes the ending of the episode a little more palatable. :]

* * *

**Food to Die For**

It had been a knee-jerk reaction.

"_This date, with Rick. If you guys are at all…"_

"_Castle? No."_

Kate Beckett couldn't count the number of times she'd been asked the nature of her relationship with Rick Castle, and her answer never varied. But she also couldn't remember when her denials had become half-hearted half-truths, or not at all.

_Technically _there wasn't anything going on between her and Castle. Technically. Nothing to make her tell Maddie to stay away from him, at any rate. No, she'd just set herself up for another Brent Edwards situation, in which she found herself wanting to demonstrate some elaborate kickboxing moves on her unsuspecting friend. But Maddie had been so nice about it, Kate couldn't help but give her her blessings.

That didn't change the fact that she felt like she'd been punched in the gut.

She was almost glad when she thought Tom was canceling, as she was more than ready to curl up with a glass of wine and her screwy feelings. But then he came out swinging, with non-takeout takeout and a candle, and she found herself having a really good time. But, at the same time, wondering vaguely if Castle was enjoying Madison's company.

She was only a tiny bit glad she was able to break up their date. Really. Just a tiny bit. Even if it meant cutting her own date short as well.

And she couldn't help but notice that her favorite purple eyeshadow matched Castle's shirt perfectly. But that's another story.

She had a really hard time not taking some of her pent up aggression out on Maddie during their interrogation, a matter not helped by Maddie's accusation that Kate broke up their date on purpose and wanted to have "little Castle babies." No, she didn't go out of her way to come between them; it was just a nice little side effect. And was she hot for Castle? She found herself unable to deny it. In fact, a denial hadn't even come to her mind. She was more concerned with the fact that the man in question was standing on the other side of the two-way mirror. Can you say mortifying?

Maddie's ditzy behavior in the interrogation room gave Kate an odd sort of glimpse into the path she'd been headed down. The slightly air-headed, well-to-do, socialite path. But the fates had different plans for the two of them and, glaring at Maddie from across the table, Kate couldn't help but be oddly pleased at the way things had turned out. She would never forgive whoever had killed her mother, and she'd never fully move on, but it had made her who she'd become. And for the first time in a long time, Kate found herself happy with who that was. Maybe everything really did happen for a reason.

…But if that's true, why had Castle entered the picture?

She couldn't deny what Maddie had said, even when _he_ mentioned it! She couldn't deny it _to his face._ When she'd previously been so adamant about not giving him an inch, she was suddenly leaving whether or not she wanted to have his babies open to his interpretation.

And he knew. Oh, she knew he knew. And she was glad, in a sort of vindictive way; maybe now he'd get the hint. In the words of her father censoring himself for her ears, spit or get off the pot.

Why shouldn't she have some fun while he was making his decision? Enter Tom. He's a really great guy. Sweet, smart, and safe. Everything a woman wants. Right?

So why did she feel slightly itchy about the potential to go to Remy's with Tom because that's where she and Castle had gone on their pseudo-date?

And why was she so happy that Maddie claimed not to have time to date?

And why did she get a little too breathless when Castle held Wolf's engagement ring out to her?

Crap.

**Overkill**

"Any leads on our mystery woman?"

"Actually, yes." Rick Castle reveled for a moment in Kate Beckett's look of mild surprise that he saw her trying to convey as expectant, and went on. "There was one call placed while the room was rented by Scarlett O'Hara, and it traced back to an extension on the third floor of Wilder's building. The Fonz is going through the voicemail system for all the women on that floor for Newman to listen to, see if he recognizes the voice he overheard fighting at Wilder's apartment."

Kate's brow furrowed, just as Ryan made his presence known. "The Fonz?" he laughed. "Fantastic." He held out his hand for a feed the birds, which Rick completed with a grin.

Kate was completely lost. "The Fonz?"

Rick looked back at her. "Oh, Esposito."

The creases in her forehead only deepened, and she shook her head to indicate that she still didn't follow.

"From before, in the break room," Rick pretended to try to clarify. But really, he just wanted her to feel a little bit bad for not being there.

Ryan glanced at him, knowing full well what he was doing, and decided to bite his tongue and stay out of it.

"What happened before?" Kate asked, still very confused.

"Oh, that's right!" Rick gave a false laugh, putting on an act that it was at himself for being so silly as to forget. "You weren't there, you and Demming had gone to pick up Marty from Central Park."

Kate's face fell a little. She knew that had been intended as a dig, and it certainly stung a bit.

"Esposito shoved the vending machine and a can fell out of it," Rick had continued. "It was like a scene out of Happy Days, ya know? The Fonz would bang on the juke box," he banged on the wall for effect, causing Kate to jump slightly, "and music would come on. It was great," he said, smiling a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "but I guess you had to be there."

Kate didn't say anything, and Ryan saw things going south, so he broke in hastily. "So, uh, the Fonz – or Esposito, either one works – found the recordings. It's all set up, we're bringing Newman up now."

"Ah!" Rick exclaimed, clapping his hands once. "Let's git 'er done!" He turned and headed for the interview lounge, Ryan on his heels.

Kate watched them go, swallowing a pang of sadness and melancholy before following.

**Deadly Game, #1**

"Hmmm," mused Detective Ryan as he entered the break room. "Coffee a la Beckett, I see?"

Esposito glanced up from the second mug of coffee he was preparing. "Can't have our fearless leader going a day un-caffeinated."

The two stood in silence as Esposito finished making Beckett's coffee.

"Never thought I'd see the day where Castle stopped bringing Beckett coffee," Ryan said quietly.

Esposito sighed and shook his head. "Me neither, man. It's kinda heartbreaking, actually."

"Guess he really _is_ trying to move on, what with the…leaving, and everything."

They shared a look.

"Our friendships with him aside," Esposito grumbled, "I don't know how he can do this to her. He _has_ to know she cares."

"Dude, the _corpses_ know she cares."

"Exactly!"

"But Demming…"

They both rolled their eyes. "Women," they said in unison.

"I don't know," Ryan sighed, "Beckett usually knows what she's doing. She'll make the right choice."

"And until that day comes," Esposito said, picking up the two mugs, "I plan on showing both of them that she doesn't need him. Not for coffee, at least."

"She doesn't need _you_ for coffee either," Ryan pointed out.

"Yeah, and three of us know it. But Castle? He's so blinded by whatever the hell's going on in his head that seeing Beckett get her coffee from another guy, even if it's me, is gonna eat him alive."

"You wanna make him hurt a bit, huh?"

"'Ey, as much as I like the guy, that's our girl he's messin' with."

Ryan nodded. "I hear ya, bro." He waved Esposito out of the room. "Go drive a stake through his heart."

"No, no, no, not a stake," Esposito amended with a smirk. "Just a coffee mug."

**Deadly Game, #2**

The ring of his phone jolted Rick Castle out of his stupor. He'd just spent the last few hours watching sappy old movies, and had spent the better part of the last 20 minutes staring at a blank Word document, his eyes blurring in and out of focus. Without thinking, and without removing his eyes from his laptop screen, he fumbled for the phone and accepted the call. "Castle," he muttered.

"Richard. Effing. Castle."

His stomach sank and his eyes slipped closed. Crap. "Hi Gina."

"Hi yourself. How long were you planning on ignoring me?"

He coughed awkwardly. "I wasn't ignoring you…"

"Do you think I'm a total idiot?" she scoffed.

"Of course not! How else would you have ended up with so much of my money after the divorce?"

She sighed harshly. "Is that what you're doing? You're bitter, so you're trying to give me gray hair by waiting until two months after the last minute to turn in your manuscript?"

He groaned, rubbing his forehead. "I promise you, I am nowhere near that petty."

"Than what are you _doing_, Richard? Please, enlighten me."

"I just…haven't been feeling it lately."

"Yeah, no kidding."

"Gee, thanks for the support," he said bitterly. Honestly, after the last week or so, Gina's snark was the absolute last thing he needed.

He heard her blow out a long breath. "Alright. What seems to be the problem?"

He paused. Was he really about to do this? Tell his ex wife about his current love life, or lack thereof? "No, Gina, I don't think I can talk about this."

"In general, or just with me?"

He allowed his awkward silence to speak for him.

"Richard, I think we've known each other long enough, and in capacities other than exes, where you should know that you can talk to me."

He sighed, not in the mood to argue and really just needing to get some things off his chest. "It's Beckett."

:::::::::::::::::::::

"I _told_ you," Gina whispered fiercely right after the elevator doors had closed. "I told you not to give in to her. You're supposed to be moving on!"

She turned to face Rick, who was slumped backwards against the wall with his eyes closed. At her statement, he shot her a glare. "Yes, well, thanks to _you_, I didn't. I would've hugged her," he grumbled, allowing his head to fall back against the wall with a thunk.

"A hug would've been the worst possible thing to do! She's with another man, and _you_ need to get yourself together and stop thinking about her!"

He winced, shaking his head, and closed his eyes again. "This is wrong."

"Excuse me?"

"This is wrong. I shouldn't be leaving."

"What?"

"I shouldn't be leaving. I can feel it."

He lunged for the fourth floor button in an attempt to return to the homicide division, but Gina jumped in front of it, blocking his movement. "What the _hell_ are you doing?"

The doors opened on the ground floor. She made to exit, but Rick didn't. "I shouldn't be leaving, something was different just now." He looked up at the ceiling as if trying to see through four floors up to the woman he'd just left. "She was going to say something."

Gina heaved a sigh and grabbed his arm, forcibly dragging him from the elevator. "No, Richard, she wasn't."

"_Yes_," he said adamantly, fighting to walk the opposite way, "she _was_. You weren't there, she got weird when you showed up, she was _going_ to say something, _I know it!_"

It was as if a light bulb had gone off above his head. He was suddenly certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Kate Beckett had been about to say something important. Very, very important. And now he was leaving for three months and might've missed his chance to hear it.

"Listen to me!" Gina cried exasperatedly, yanking his arm so he was suddenly jerked around to face her. "You told me that she's with someone else." She held up a finger to stop his protests. "You _also_ told me, in just about the same breath, that she's the most moral person you've ever met. Now, if she's with another man, do you really think that she would've told you anything worth hearing?"

His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, unable to come up with an argument but feeling, _knowing_, that he shouldn't leave. He finally groaned and bounced restlessly on the balls of his feet. "Gina, I _need_ to get back up there!"

"No!" she cried through gritted teeth, yanking his arm with inhuman force. He was dragged out of the precinct and onto the sidewalk, where he was immediately shoved into Gina's car. She contemplated slamming the door on his leg, but figured that wouldn't be good for his productivity, so she waited until he was safely inside before doing so.

Once in the car herself, Gina was faced with a Rick Castle the likes of which she'd never seen.

"Damnit, Gina," he groaned, slouching downwards in his seat.

"Oh relax, you're making a big deal out of nothing," she said, almost soothingly, steering the car out into traffic.

"And how do we know it's nothing, huh? What happens when I come back in September and find out that she _was_ trying to tell me something, but that I _missed it_ because _you_ made me leave? What then?"

"Then you deal with it when you come back in the fall."

He let out a small noise of frustration and scrubbed his hands over his face. "So when I don't get over her this summer, and then come back to find her madly in love with Demming, I'm blaming you."

"_Me_?" she cried indignantly. "You two have been pussyfooting around for a freaking year, and you blame _me_?"

"Yes! Because something was just about to happen, and _you made me leave! _You and all your sage 'you need to move on' advice last night!"

"Something was not _about to happen_—"

"No, something _was_ going to happen! I know her, and I've never seen her that fidgety, or…nice." _Or beautiful_.

Gina sighed. "Either way, you have a book to write. And, speaking as your publisher, distractions are _not_ appreciated right now. Finish the damn book, and you can come back and play detective until your next deadline forces me into your company again."

He sighed, and pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window, all of his fight having left him, leaving behind a hollow, empty feeling. "Fine," he said miserably.

She rolled her eyes. "Stop being such a drama queen."

He swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked back tears; the thought of three months without Kate Beckett, whether she was with Demming or not, was not agreeing with him. "Just get me out of here."

* * *

A/N: i want to thank you all profusely for your awesome feedback, and for just reading this at all. i'm fairly certain i'll be writing SOMETHING this summer, but look out for new ficlets during season 3! woo!


	10. Episodes 3x01, 02, 03

A/N: i'm baaaaack! :D i cannot tell you how good it is to be writing again! this semester is KILLING me, though, so i've had to get creative ... these first two one-shots were both written by hand while i was at work, lol. this semester from hell also means i'll be updating more towards Friday & Saturday on a regular basis. and yes, i know my original plan was to update in fours, but this season is only 22 episodes, which doesn't fit evenly, so i'll be choosing my updates rather arbitrarily. aaaaand i think that's all the notes i have for you, lol. without further ado, enjoy!

* * *

**A Deadly Affair, #1**

Kate Beckett didn't need a partner.

She'd spent the majority of the summer convincing herself of this. Sure, a partner could be helpful. A partner could also be smart, creative, charming, sweet, and a damn good laugh to be around.

Key word: _could_.

Most of the time, a partner was a distraction. Just another body to get in the way. Another person to worry about. So she'd operated perfectly happily by herself for four months – just her, Ryan, and Esposito. Exactly the way she liked it. There was no need to worry about those two up and leaving, and she knew it wasn't just their paychecks making them stick around.

But when she was able to bounce theories off of someone again, she was reminded about how helpful a partner could be.

When she landed hard on the dirty cement floor of the burlesque club's warehouse and heard bullets whizzing overhead, she was reminded just how much a partner could come in handy.

When she found herself in an alleyway with the two suspects, she was reminded that having a partner could be lifesaving; instead of herself resembling human Swiss cheese, it was the killers getting holes punched in them.

Okay, so maybe Kate Beckett could use a partner.

But _Castle_?

_Again?_

He'd left her utterly shattered, not once, but twice. _Twice_. Hell, she wouldn't put up with that crap with a boyfriend. Why was Castle any different?

…Ah, the age-old question. Kate doubted she'd ever truly figure out the answer. All she knew was that here he was, asking for a way back in, and she was giving it to him.

She'd figured out the connection between the three victims a full day before he had (a fact that she truly wished she could lord over him). She'd stood there for a moment, a bit shell shocked, a bit thrilled with herself, and fully knowing what she had to do. Well, what she had to _not_ do.

He'd figure it out; there was no doubt in her mind about that. And when he did, he'd win the bet. But the best part? She'd get her partner back, and on her own terms. He'd left against her wishes, and would only get to return because of them.

It was times like these when she marveled at the ironies of life (or, uh, signs from the universe).

She did experience fleeting moments of self-doubt. What if he didn't figure it out? She could only stall the investigation for so long. And what if he discovered what she was doing? Well, beyond the initial awkwardness, that might not be an entirely terrible situation… but getting _past_ that awkwardness? Oh boy. _That_ would be terrible.

And what if he left again?

But when she looked at him, she knew. When he looked utterly remorseful after (finally) realizing what he'd done wrong. When he brought her coffee. When he won the bet, but was willing to agree to her terms if she really didn't want him around. When he looked at her with such respect and joy when she told him he was welcome to stay…

She knew.

Kate Beckett didn't need a partner. But she wanted this one.

**A Deadly Affair, #2**

"If he's convicted, could I be the one to drag his ass down to holding?"

Kate Beckett cracked a smile and looked away from the observation glass, her gaze falling instead on Esposito, who was standing directly to her right. "If?"

Esposito laughed.

"Come on, Beckett," Ryan said from her left. "You don't really think he did it, did you?"

Kate sighed, and focused her eyes once more on a sight she never thought she would see again: Richard Castle on the opposite side of the interrogation table. Chewing her lip, she thought of everything she knew, everything she'd thought she'd known, and everything she clearly didn't know. "No, I don't," she answered finally. "But right now, he's not Castle. He's a suspect. And we have to treat him as such."

The door to the observation room opened, and Captain Montgomery stepped inside. "Beckett?"

She turned to face him. "Yes, sir?"

He surveyed her for a moment. "You know I'm supposed to tell you that you're too close to the suspect to do this interrogation. And then I'm supposed to order you off the case."

Kate nodded, torn between relief and disappointment. "Yes sir, I did know that."

"Well, I'm not going to do that."

The attention in the room audibly sharpened.

Kate couldn't quite believe her ears. "You're not?"

The captain shook his head. "If there's anyone I can trust to keep things professional during an interrogation, it's you. Especially now, since I'm putting my own neck on the line for you on this one," he added with a pointed stare.

She smiled. "Absolutely, sir."

"But Beckett, let me make something clear. If you feel like you can't hold it together in there, you are to _get out_, understand?"

"Yes sir."

"I would be more than happy to finish this one off for you."

"Um, sir?" Ryan interjected. "Don't you mean 'finish this one _up_'?"

"That's what I said."

Kate, Ryan, and Esposito exchanged glances.

Satisfied, Montgomery turned to the glass. "Beckett?"

"Yes sir?"

He narrowed his eyes conspiratorially. "Let him have it."

She smiled. "I'll do my best."

Striding confidently out of the ob room, Kate gave herself a moment's pause outside of the interrogation room. She took a deep breath and attempted to quell the wave of hurt, anger, and betrayal that washed over her. _The man in this room isn't Castle,_ she told herself. _He's a suspect with the same name._

_He broke your heart._

_No, he didn't. I've never met this man._

_He left you._

_This is going to be the first time we've ever spoken._

_He might've killed a woman._

_Now we're on the same page._

Finally filled with the correct kind of anger, Kate yanked the door open and stepped inside.

"Something's different," Rick commented. _Yes_, Kate thought savagely, _you are_. "Did you remodel?"

Still focused on her task, mind impressively clear, she sat down and looked him in the eyes for the first time in four months. "You've been informed of your rights, Mr. Castle?"

"Really?" he asked in disbelief. "You're not even going to ask me how my summer was?"

"You _are_ aware that you're under arrest _for murder?_"

"And I thought you were being rough with the cuffs just for fun."

Kate bit the inside of her cheek. _Hold it together, girl, come on…_

His gaze softened. "You look good."

_Shit._

**He's Dead, She's Dead**

"Beckett."

"Hey."

Kate knew something was wrong as soon as she answered the phone and heard his voice. Call it a gut instinct, or woman's intuition, or maybe it was just because she knew him so well. But she could tell that something was definitely off.

"What's up, Castle?"

"Uh, I'm not going to be in today. For awhile, at least."

"Is everything okay?"

Silence.

"Castle?" she prompted, her concern quickly growing. "What's wrong?"

"You remember me telling you about Chet, right?"

She quickly racked her memory. "Yeah, I think so. He's your mother's boyfriend, right?"

"He was, yes."

"Was? Did they break up?"

"Well, that was the plan…"

"Okay, Castle, what's going on?"

"He's dead."

"What?"

"He had a stroke in his sleep two nights ago."

Kate's stomach dropped. "Oh my god, that's terrible. I'm so sorry."

"Thanks," Rick answered heavily. "Mother's really upset, so I'm going to stay home for a bit in case she needs me."

She felt a sudden surge of affection. "Of course. Take all the time you need."

"Thanks," he said again, but this time she could hear the hint of a smile in his voice.

"And I'll assume you don't want the boys to know."

"Wow, it's like you've done this whole 'grieving' thing before."

She chuckled. "Ya know, once or twice. And Castle?"

"Yeah?"

"If any of you need anything, _please_ let me know."

There was a beat of silence before he spoke. "Thanks. I really appreciate that."

"But let me guess; you're not going to need anything, right?"

He chuckled. "You know me so well."

She smiled. "Well, as long as you know the offer's on the table."

"I do," he said softly.

Kate cleared her throat awkwardly, attempting to ignore all the pleasant feelings that had no business existing at this point in time. "Alright, well, I should really get back to work."

"Yeah, probably," he said, sounding equally as flustered. "I'll let you know when I'm coming in when I know."

"Sounds good. Bye."

She ended the call and actually took a step towards the bullpen before stopping in her tracks. _I'll let you know when I'm coming in_. Isn't that what couples do? Let each other know their plans? Was this significant?...

She narrowed her eyes in thought for a moment, before quickly shaking her head to clear it.

"Something wrong, Beckett?" Karpowski asked suspiciously as she exited the bathroom.

"Yes," Kate answered. "I'm completely ridiculous."

**Under the Gun**

Rick Castle had had one hell of a day. From adding Mike Royce to the suspect list on the murder board in the morning, to arresting a group of murderous treasure hunters in a graveyard at night, it had been like living a day in the twilight zone. At the end of the day, he thought he'd be ready for anything. But, knee deep in a graveyard and gritty with sweat and dirt, he realized that there was one thing that he was most certainly not expecting.

After leaving the precinct, he and Beckett had hurried to her car, both trying to hide how excited they were. They arrived at the graveyard and quickly found their way back to the original dig site. Grabbing the shovels that were left there, they counted rows and stones and set to work.

"So," he'd begun excitedly as the first divots began flying. "What are you going to do with your half?"

Kate glanced at him amusedly as she stopped digging briefly to take off her coat. "My half?"

"Of the treasure!"

"First of all," she said, pressing her shovel into the dirt, "we might not even find anything here, so don't get your hopes up too much. And second, we are _not_ keeping anything we may find."

"But—"

"_No._"

"_But—_"

"Castle, do you know how morally wrong it would be for a cop to keep the score that a man whose murder she investigated was killed for?"

He blew a raspberry at her.

She laughed. "Sorry to poop your party."

They worked for a few moments in silence before he spoke again. "Hypothetically speaking…"

She groaned jokingly. "Oh, here we go."

"What _would_ you do with fifteen million dollars?"

He barely had time to blink before she answered. "I'd move out of my crappy apartment," she said with a laugh, tossing another shovelful of dirt onto the growing mounds.

He half chuckled, not entirely sure if she was being serious. "It's really that bad?"

She shrugged. "Not really. It's just not home, ya know?"

"Mmm," he hummed in agreement.

"And what would _you_ do with fifteen million dollars?" she asked. "Actually, a more appropriate question would be; what would you do with _another_ fifteen million dollars? Wait, let me guess… a robot butler? A rocket car? A spaceship?"

"Have you been reading my Christmas list?"

She threw a dirt clod at him.

He ducked, and laughed. "No, I'd probably set up a fund for Alexis. Ya know, just in case. Maybe give some to my mother so she can get her own place and get out of mine…" Kate laughed, and he grinned. "I'd probably donate a lot of it. I don't really need any more."

He glanced at her and, though she didn't say anything, he could tell that wasn't the answer she was expecting. He was content enough with that, at let the silence stand as they continued to dig deeper and deeper into the ground.

Every now and then, he'd sneak a sidelong glance at her face. She'd gone through hell (_yet again_, he mused angrily) in the last few days, and he was no idiot. He knew there was no way she could be as 'okay' as she claimed to be. As time wore on, he noticed the spark of excitement in her eyes begin to fade. When the small crease appeared between her eyebrows, he decided it was time to take action.

"How about we take a break?" he suggested, heaving another shovelful of dirt out of the now sizeable hole.

"Fine by me," she said, wiping sweat off her face with her forearm and sitting down on the edge of the hole.

He sat down beside her. Unsure how to broach the subject, he watched her nudge her foot into the dirt for a few moments before speaking.

"Don't do this to yourself."

She looked at him. "What?"

He sighed. "You know what. Questioning everything in your past that has to do with Royce."

He watched her chew the inside of her cheek for a few seconds before answering.

"I just feel like it was all a lie. I thought he was perfect, infallible, but the whole time I've known him, he's secretly been after this treasure. Everything's contaminated."

"Look, I've only known Royce for three days, but even I could see how much he cares about you. He obviously has some morality issues, but even after years of not seeing her, he kept a picture of his old partner in his closet." Tears welled in her eyes, and he nudged her comfortingly with his elbow. "He did right by you."

She swallowed hard and worked to find her voice. "And what if I end up like him? What if I lose my focus that much?"

He waved a hand airily. "You won't."

She looked at him. "How can you be so sure?"

He looked at her disbelievingly. "Have you met you?"

"You have a _lot_ of faith in me," she said, her voice a mixture of pity at the fact that he could be so naïve, and awe.

Rick merely smiled, and silence fell again as she blushed rather furiously and looked away.

When she felt safe enough that her face had returned to its normal color, it was her turn to break the silence. "I told Royce that I caught my mom's killer."

"I figured."

"He said it was stupid of me to shoot him."

Rick felt distinctly awkward. "Oh?"

Kate nodded, and smiled slightly. "But he spews a lot of bile, doesn't he?"

_This is huge_, Rick realized. He grinned. "Well _I_ certainly think so!"

She laughed and scratched her cheek, leaving a smudge of dirt behind.

He pointed at it. "You've, uh, got some dirt on your face."

Narrowing her eyes, she reached down to rub her hand in the dirt before smudging her fingers across his cheek. "So do you."

He nodded solemnly. "Touche."

She laughed. "Let's get back to work, shall we?"

He smiled and they stood up, wincing slightly as their shovels touched their sore hands, and resumed their work. Barely ten minutes had gone by before Kate froze with her shovel in the ground, eyes wide.

"Castle. I think I found something."

"Puh-lease," he said, continuing to dig. "I used that trick earlier, you're not gonna get that one over on me."

"No, I'm serious."

"What?" He turned to face her. She removed her shovel from the dirt and jabbed it back into the same spot. Distinctly audible was the clank of metal on metal. "Holy crap. I think you found something."

It was as if someone had lit a fire beneath them. They dug vigorously and soon unearthed a rectangular metal tin; a treasure chest.

"Holy crap," Kate breathed. "I didn't think we'd actually find anything."

"Honestly? Me neither," Rick said.

"Let's just keep in mind that this still might be a ruse," she cautioned. "Let's not get our hopes up too much."

"Right," he agreed. "Good idea."

Together they hoisted the box up onto the grass. There was a beat of silence as they stared at it, silently praying that it was what they thought it was. With fingers shaking with adrenaline, anticipation, and built up emotion, Kate pried open the top to reveal hundreds of glittering gems.

She let out a very un-Beckett-like whoop of excitement and burst out in giddy laughter.

"YES!" Rick cried jubilantly.

Without thinking or knowing exactly what he was doing, he turned to her. Evidently she'd had the same idea, and threw her arms around his neck in a brief celebratory hug. Forgetting who they were, he lifted her momentarily off the ground, but as he set her down and they separated, she didn't seem to care.

"I can't believe this is real!" she exclaimed as they clambered out of the hole.

He grinned, and flopped down onto the grass. "You did it!"

She looked at him, confused. "Me?"

"Yeah. You did everything you told Royce you would do. You did it."

A look of realization crossed her face, and she smiled. "No. _We_ did it."

He smiled softly, and rolled his eyes heavenward. "And you wonder why I have faith in you."

She laughed and laid down on the grass as well.

"Ya know," Rick commented, gazing at the sky. "I fell in love with my first girlfriend because she was the only person I knew that didn't think I was stupid for wanting to be a writer."

Kate's eyes filled with tears. He had known she was lying when she told him she was putting on an act. That simple comment was enough to tell her that he understood, that he didn't think she was crazy and idiotic and naïve. And in that instant, she knew she had a true partner and a true friend. Whatever life might throw their way, they'd tackle it. And they'd tackle it together.

And together, they lifted the box and walked in tandem back through the graveyard and out to the street.

* * *

A/N: i kinda like this last one :). talk to me!


	11. Episodes 3x04, 05, 06, 07

A/N: i definitely didn't mean to wait this long between updates, lol. i was going to post this last week, but then all of a sudden it was Sunday, so i decided to wait for another episode... and then i was totally uninspired by Almost Famous :P. but here we are!

* * *

**Punked**

Richard Castle glared at his computer screen.

The computer screen glared back.

He could feel the blank Word document burning itself into his corneas, but didn't look away. He felt like he had something to prove; that there was at least one foe he could successfully vanquish. His date with Alexis was wonderful, but now, in the solitude of his office, his shortcomings and failures felt glaringly obvious. He'd been expecting that, honestly. It was why he'd always hated being alone.

Heaving a sigh, he flexed his fingers and morosely typed out a sentence.

_The fact that she hasn't told you is how we know it's real._

He observed what he'd written for a few moments before muttering several choice four-letter words under his breath; his mother had a point. His stomach contracted unpleasantly.

Damnit, Beckett.

Rick knew that she wasn't a sharer; it was part of what made her so interesting. But it had been almost a month since they'd been working together again, and not once had she even hinted that there might be someone new in her life. And god only knows how long they've been… doing whatever they've been doing. Dating? Sleeping together? Falling in love? He let his breath out in a huff and slumped back in his chair. He certainly couldn't accuse her of overcompensating.

He rubbed his hands through his hair, and then dropped them to the keyboard.

_Just joshing!_

He pulled a face. He'd never be able to use that phrase again, would he?

_Josh. _What kind of name is that, anyway?

Alexis used to be friends with a Josh. He was a short kid, kind of goofy looking, with big curly hair and glasses. _That_, Rick thought, is what a Josh is supposed to look like. A Josh is _not_ supposed to be tall, dark, and handsome, emphasis on tall… and dark… and handsome.

Rick groaned. God _damn_.

He typed several expletives and then promptly deleted them all, letter by letter, reminding himself of Tom Hanks in You've Got Mail.

Let's be reasonable, he told himself. You're with Gina. You're _happy_ with Gina. What is or isn't going on in Beckett's love life is of no concern to you.

He let himself believe that for half a second before letting out a guffaw. Beckett doesn't matter. Yeah. Right. Good luck trying to trick yourself into thinking that, sir!

He rubbed a hand down his face. No, Beckett's a friend. And any good friend worries about what a friend does when it comes to his or her love life, right?

Right, he decided. Absolutely. He'd be a bad friend if he weren't concerned.

He narrowed his eyes, staring unseeingly at the bookshelves lining the opposite wall. _Alright_, he thought, _let's think about this logically. She didn't tell me about him. _

…_But she told him about me, _he realized with a jolt. Did that mean something? Was Josh not (yet, he conceded ruefully) important enough to mention, but he, Rick, was? Or did it just mean that she was more comfortable talking to and confiding in Josh?

Rick slumped forwards onto his desk, allowing his head to fall onto the keyboard and type some gibberish. He lifted it up an inch or two and let it fall again.

Sighing again, he sat up and flattened his hair as he observed what was now written on the screen. _Ryan and Esposito didn't know about Josh either_, he reasoned with himself. If Beckett were serious with him, she would've told them at least, right? _And she made me coffee, _he thought happily. He added that to the Word document, typing each letter with relish.

_COFFEE!_

She'd never done that before. It had always been him making the effort, showing her, in this one small, safe way, that he cared. But now she was reciprocating, making him coffee and even offering up parenting advice. _Which is more than can be said for Meredith_, prodded his subconscious. He snorted.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Alexis poked her head inside. "Am I interrupting?"

Rick chuckled. "Come on, don't you know me?"

She laughed, and circled the desk to give him a hug. "Just wanted to say goodnight, and thanks again for dinner. We should do that more often!"

He smiled into her hair. "Anytime. I'm at your beck and call."

She planted a kiss on the top of his head, and glanced at the computer screen as she stepped away. "What's that?" she asked, indicating the Word document with one hand, the other still draped across his shoulders.

"Oh, nothing," he said hurriedly. "Just working through some stuff."

"Plot points?"

"Yes," he said, relieved. "Exactly."

Her eyebrows climbed towards her hairline as she read the incoherent blabberings on the screen in front of her, and she laughed. "Looks like Rook has some stuff to figure out."

Rick looked at his daughter – his beautiful, perfect daughter – and smiled, filled with newfound optimism. "Don't worry. He's well on his way."

**Anatomy of a Murder**

Javier Esposito wasn't sure of much in life.

He was never sure what a day would hold. He didn't know if he'd be stuck behind a desk mindlessly filling out paperwork, or chasing 80-year-old felons through alleys, or on his knees untying a dominatrix's boot, or bleeding to death in a hospital.

He wasn't sure if Ryan would bail on plans to stay in with Jenny for the night. He couldn't tell you if he'd find his own Jenny one day, or if he'd ever walk down the aisle with a woman. He didn't know how his fantasy football team would fare, nor why the Mets had tanked so horribly in the second half of the season.

If there was anything he _was_ sure of, it was that he couldn't be sure of anything. For the majority of his adult life, he firmly adhered to the credo that the only sure things in life are death and taxes.

But watching them walk away from him that day, Javier Esposito realized he could be sure of something else: Castle and Beckett.

He couldn't honestly say that he was surprised by the revelation. He'd most certainly seen it coming. It had started out with the little things; Beckett not killing him on their second case together was a promising first step. Pretty soon they were apparently having heart-to-hearts about Beckett's mother's murder, which progressed to Castle bringing her coffee with alarming regularity.

He had watched from afar as they began spending more and more time together outside the precinct, witnessing the two, disheveled and pajama-clad, together in her apartment one morning. He still wasn't quite sure if he believed that nothing happened. After all, pancakes aren't just pancakes.

But what surprised him the most was how that personal time had somehow seeped into the precinct. There was no way they could hide their growing tension, nor the lingering stares. He almost felt bad about interrupting those stares so many times, but had always figured that they should take it home and stare at each other in private, for crying out loud. He'd particularly enjoyed catching them nose-to-nose over the graphic novel, though. Few times in his life had he felt such a supreme sense of being the only one in the room to be let in on a secret. There were all-nighters pulled, late night outings to Remy's, poker games, and the occasional gift given, not to mention all the gummy bears consumed.

His suspicion only grew stronger when Castle returned from the Hamptons after his summer away. He'd watched the tension slowly melt from Beckett's body, watched the coffee ritual begin again, and wondered how things would manage to come together this time. He wasn't sure what made him realize that Beckett was letting Castle win their bet, but it was suddenly glaringly obvious; what those two had worked so hard to build wasn't going to crumble after one summer apart. He'd bet on Beckett taking Castle back once, and he'd do it again in a heartbeat.

The two of them ending up together was inevitable. When it would happen and who would break the stalemate, he couldn't say, but he knew that someday, it would happen. The world would eventually right itself and they would consummate what had been growing for a year and a half and counting. They were too good for each other for it not to happen. She helped him grow up, and he let her laugh. They'd been through some rough spots, but when push came to shove, Castle had outlasted one boyfriend already, and Beckett had held on despite two ex-wives, a quick fling, and countless flirtations.

He wasn't surprised when Beckett said she'd get Castle out of prison if he found himself there. Castle, on the other hand, looked like his entire collection of novels had been dropped on his head, and Beckett clearly had no idea of the magnitude of what she had said.

But Javier Esposito knew. And as he watched them walk away, side by side, he couldn't help but grin. They were so in love with each other, and they didn't even know it.

They would one day, though. He was sure of it.

**3XK**

Everything was always a jump with him.

The I-say-jump-you-say-how-highs.

The leaps of faith.

The skyrocketing of her heart rate at inopportune moments.

Or, of course, the skyrocketing of her heart rate when she kicked down a door and half expected to find him dead on the carpet. It had taken her half an hour to stop shaking from the adrenaline rush and pure relief.

But the jump that Kate Beckett wasn't expecting was the literal one.

They were sitting by the pool, still holding hands, Kate reveling in the fact that his hand was strong and warm as opposed to cold and limp. They had been sitting in silence for an unknown stretch of time, a cool breeze playing across the surface of the water and making it ripple invitingly.

That's when Rick Castle stood.

He didn't let go of her hand but didn't pull her to her feet, so she remained seated, gazing up at him. He was lit with an eerie blue-green light reflecting off the water in front of him, making him look strangely ethereal. Her breath caught.

He looked at her, and she couldn't tell if he was happy, or anguished, or something in between.

"I'm alive," he said simply.

She could only manage a nod. He tugged at her hand and she stood, allowing him to lead her over to the edge of the pool.

He took a deep breath, and when he looked at her this time, she knew exactly what was going on.

She squeezed his hand briefly, and they jumped.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_I hope you didn't ruin your shoes._

Kate let out a half laugh, half sob when she read his text later that night. She punched her pillow into a more comfortable position and replied.

_Small price to pay._

She took the time to look at the screen of her phone when his reply came, memorizing the look of his name – she'd come far too close to never seeing that sight again.

_Am I interrupting anything?_

She knew he was asking indirectly about Josh; quite honestly, she was surprised he wasn't with Gina.

_Nada._

She pondered a moment before she hit send, and decided to follow her gut and add another sentence.

_You want to talk?_

His answer came quickly enough to make her worried, under the circumstances.

_Do you mind?_

Rolling her eyes, she hit the 'call' button.

He answered on the first ring. "I'll take that as a 'no,'" he said with a chuckle.

Inexplicably, her eyes filled with tears at his lightheartedness. Joking around hours after a near-death experience; it was so very him. Now it was her turn to ask without asking. "I'm surprised you aren't otherwise occupied."

"I'm not really in a doing-things kind of mood," he sighed.

"I know what you mean," she said sympathetically. "How's Martha? And Alexis?"

"Both suffering some broken ribs from the hugs I gave them when I got home."

She chuckled. "But otherwise?"

There was silence for a moment, before he sighed. "I don't know. How do you describe this? I would say they're fine, but they're not, but under the circumstances…?"

"Nothing alarming?"

"No, normal reactions." He let out a humorless laugh. "Normal."

She winced sympathetically. "And did you tell Gina?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And she was properly terrified like any good girlfriend would be, but…" He sighed. "She doesn't get it," he said quietly.

"Not many people do," she said softly. "It's hard to understand what knowing you're going to die feels like."

They lay there in silence for a few moments, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

Kate was the one who spoke first.

"And how are _you_ doing?"

His pause seemed to stretch for ages. "I've been better."

Her eyes slipped closed, and she prayed her voice wouldn't break. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

She fought to swallow the lump in her throat. "For getting there too late."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's my fault that you were at Jerry's mercy. I should've figured it out sooner."

He sighed. "Don't be ridiculous. You've saved my ass more than enough times. It's about time I did it for myself."

She sniffled slightly. "How _did_ you?"

"I talked," he said simply. "I finally got to put my talents to good use."

She let out a watery chuckle. "You _do _have a way with words."

"You're so nice to me after I almost die!"

She rolled her eyes, but felt her spirits lift slightly. "You almost gave me a heart attack tonight, Castle," she mumbled somewhat shyly.

He groaned wearily. "That makes two of us."

Kate wasn't sure if it was because she was deliriously tired, or still slightly off from the adrenaline rush, or emotionally exhausted, or if it was because the statement was actually funny… but what she did know is that she smiled genuinely for the first time all night. She couldn't hold back the laughter that came next, either.

"What?" Rick laughed. "Are you laughing at me?"

She couldn't answer, but instead laughed harder.

"You are!" he exclaimed, "You're laughing at me!" Even though he didn't quite find anything funny, he laughed harder as well; Kate's laugh was infectious, and suddenly he was feeling all the virtues of his new lease on life.

"Wow," he said once she'd calmed down, "Chlorine affecting your brain?"

She blew out a breath, still grinning. "Nope. Just my shoes."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

She chuckled. "That makes one of us."

He grinned. "Then what were you laughing at?"

"Life," she sighed. "It's a funny thing."

"Mmm," he agreed. "That it is."

**Almost Famous**

"I feel dirty."

Kate Beckett took her eyes off the road for a moment and glanced at the figure in the seat next to her. Rick Castle was slouched down slightly and, though it was dark, the city lights illuminated the disgusted face he was pulling.

"That's not something I ever thought I'd hear you complain about," she said with an amused grin.

"Me neither, but then again, I never thought I'd be in a…" he shuddered, "male strip club."

She rolled her eyes. "Stop being so dramatic. Female strip clubs are just as sleazy."

"Yeah, but—" his head snapped up, and he looked at her. "How do you know?"

"I used to work at one."

He choked. "What?"

She burst out laughing. "I'm kidding! Jesus, Castle, what kind of girl do you take me for?"

He placed a hand on his chest and breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Well done, that was a good one. But seriously, how do you know?"

She sighed, and briefly flicked her eyes skyward. "Does it really matter?"

"Yes, yes it does."

"I had adventurous friends in college, okay?" She focused her eyes on the road to avoid his stare. "Some of them wanted to see what it was like."

"And you went with them?"

She shrugged. "I'm all for experiencing things." It was her turn to shudder. "But never, ever again."

He laughed. "So you feel my pain!"

"And it's one thing if you _want_ to be danced on! It's quite another if it's unsolicited!"

"Aww, you mean you _didn't_ enjoy the multiple juiceheads grinding on you?"

"What do you mean? Of course I did!" she said sarcastically. "What woman in her right mind wouldn't want to smell like… a strange man's sweat. And oil. And…" She sniffed, and wrinkled her nose. "Some kind of fruit."

He laughed. "As opposed to your normal kind of fruit?"

She blushed slightly, and fought to hide her smile. "Something like that, yeah."

He smiled, and they rode the rest of the way to the precinct in silence. He didn't speak again until she'd parked.

"By the way," he said, as they opened their respective doors and stepped out into the crisp fall air. He paused on the curb and waited for her to join him on the sidewalk. "I know I probably shouldn't be saying this, given our situations, but…" he pulled the door to the precinct open and stepped aside to let her walk in before him. "You look really, really nice."

She stopped in front of him, and let out a breath; he could see the cloud of mist hovering between them for a moment, before disappearing with the wind. She smiled, the little smile a small, deep-down part of him hoped was saved just for him. _'Nice' is an understatement,_ he thought ruefully.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second more before stepping inside. He blew out a breath and followed her, the door swinging shut behind him.

* * *

A/N: i knew what i was going to write about for 3XK before i went to sleep the night that episode aired. i'm not sure why, but i had it in my head almost immediately that they should jump in the pool. but for Almost Famous? i wanted to write about either Castle complimenting Beckett's outfit, the line she had about her apartment blowing up, or something about the motorcycle gang (since she's dating a "biker," i feel like Castle would've said something about it)... but trying to piece together a story was like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands. couldn't do it. but i'd like to credit the "some kind of fruit" line to my friend and coworker, Laura! we were talking about the strip club scene and that gem popped out of her mouth, lol. OH, and i'd like to dedicate the story for Punked to my friend Josh, whose description i used for Alexis's friend... though he's since cut his hair and become much less goofy looking :).  
ANYWAY! reviews make a stressed college student's days much more enjoyable! (hint hint) :D


	12. Episodes 3x08, 09, 10

A/N: hello again! :) i'm feeling rather lucky that i decided on this update-in-arbitrarily-picked-numbers thing, otherwise i'd be waiting until after the (stupid) holiday hiatus to post again. and i'm reeeally ready to get 3x08 and 3x09 out into the world ... i feel like they've been written forever! lol. just a warning - this batch are extremely SO-focused. i didn't mean to do it, i just write about what isn't in the episodes. and saying that the SOs aren't in the episodes is a bit of an understatement! :P

* * *

**Murder Most Fowl**

As she did on all too many mornings, Detective Kate Beckett awoke to the shrill ring of her cell phone. Regretfully, she rolled out of the warm cocoon she'd unconsciously dug herself into and groped around her nightstand for the offending device, barely registering Castle's name on the screen through eyes still heavy with sleep. She accepted the call.

"Beckett," she muttered blearily.

He jumped right in. "I have an idea, and I think you'll actually like this one. Can we—" he stopped suddenly. "Am _I_ waking _you_ up?"

She yawned. "Yes."

"Wow. I should go buy a lottery ticket."

"Ha, ha," she said with as much sarcasm as her foggy mind could muster. "Why are _you_ up?"

"I see my daughter off to school every morning. But the more important question is, why _aren't_ you?"

She yawned again. "I had a late night."

"Wha— oh, crap," he groaned. "Do you have company? Tell Josh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Castle!" she broke in, interrupting his stammerings. "Josh isn't here."

"Oh." He paused. "Is someone else?"

She rolled her eyes. "No. Josh and I had a late dinner last night, it's the only time we could fit it in. And he has an early surgery this morning, so I'm sure you can draw your own conclusions about what happened last night."

"Nothing?"

"We have a winner," she said, imitating a game show host, albeit a very tired one. "I've finally found someone with a worse schedule than mine."

"And that's saying something," he said sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said, suddenly feeling rather bad. "I shouldn't have unloaded on you."

"For future reference, feel free to unload on me anytime."

She smiled. "Thanks, Castle."

"But I'm still shocked that your alarm clock hasn't gone off yet!"

Grabbing her watch off of her nightstand, she yawned yet again as she lazily counted down along with the second hand. "Three, two, one…"

Her alarm clock blared.

"Damn, I'm good!" he joked.

"'Good' is relative," she countered, slapping her alarm's 'off' button perhaps a bit too violently.

"I completely agree."

"Well, do you agree that maybe you should tell me why you're acting as my stand-in alarm clock this morning?"

"Oh, right. I have an idea."

She paused, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn't, she prodded him. "Which is…?"

"Meet me at the crime scene and you'll find out."

"Seriously?" she all but whined. "You're not going to tell me what you woke me up for?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Is this idea of yours going to help us solve a murder?"

"Quite possibly."

"That sounds like fun to _me_."

He laughed. "Wow, way to make me sound like a terrible person."

"Guilty conscience?" she suggested.

"Ha, ha." It was his turn to laugh sarcastically. "What if I told you I'd make it worth your while?"

She groaned, sensing her imminent defeat. "Should I even bother asking what you mean by that?"

"Nope."

She sighed, but fought back a smile. "Fine, fine," she grumbled, sitting up slowly. "I'll meet you at the crime scene."

"Excellent!" he said delightedly.

"Give me half an hour," she said, wincing as her bare feet touched the cold wood floor.

"Half an hour?"

"Yes," she said sternly. "I am _not_ coming out in my pajamas."

"No, that's not it," he said hurriedly, "It's just… half an hour? That's all you need? I can grow a full beard in the time it takes most women to get ready."

"I shower at night," she said, stretching her free arm over her head and arching her back. "And besides, I'm not most women."

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "You can say that again."

**Close Encounters of the Murderous Kind**

"What is that?"

Kate looked up at Josh, who had just arrived at her apartment. He had barely kissed her hello before the question was out of his mouth.

"What is what?"

The expression on his face darkened and he pointed to the side of her neck. "_That._"

Her stomach dropped; she'd forgotten about the bruise. "Oh. Yeah."

He raised his eyebrows. "So? Are you going to explain yourself?"

She sighed. "You're not going to believe me."

He clenched his jaw. "Kate. You have a hickey that I didn't give you. You'd better start talking."

::::::::::::::::::::

"It's not a hickey," Rick said.

"Like hell it's not!" Gina cried furiously.

"Will you let me explain?" he pleaded.

She said nothing, but merely stood there with her arms crossed, anger in her eyes.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," he muttered. "Okay. I know this is going to sound totally made up, but—"

"Well _there's_ a promising start to a sentence," she retorted, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

"Beckett and I—"

"Oh Jesus, Rick!"

"Will you let me finish?" She fell silent, and he continued. "Beckett and I were illegally detained by some federal agents."

She narrowed her eyes. "Federal agents?"

"Creepy ones," he offered.

"Illegally detained? As in…?"

"Ambushed, questioned, and sedated."

"God, I know you make up stories for a living, but _really_?"

:::::::::::::::::::::

"I am _not_ making this up!" Kate exclaimed.

Josh merely glared at her disbelievingly.

She groaned. "Would I lie about something like this?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't think I'd ever see a strange bruise on your neck, but look at what we're talking about right now."

Her mouth fell open. "You asshole," she breathed. "Do you really think I would lie about being held against my will just to make you believe I don't have a hickey?"

He'd bristled when she insulted him. "Who are _you_ to be calling _me_ an asshole? Last time I checked, I'm not the one who's done something wrong here!"

"Neither did I!" she cried. "All _I_ did was have jurisdiction over the area where an astrophysicist who intercepted governmental information was murdered!"

"So, according to your _story_," he said, putting sarcastic emphasis on story, "where'd the bruise come from?"

:::::::::::::::::::

"The injector gun," Rick said, turning to show Gina the bruise more clearly. "It's how they sedated us. See?"

She glared at him, still unconvinced. "This seems like a very elaborate hoax to get me to believe that you didn't cheat."

He paused in shock; that one hurt. "That was a low blow," he said, his voice hard. "You of all people should know I don't cheat."

"Should I?" she asked angrily.

"Yes, you should!" he yelled, having been pushed very quickly to his breaking point. "I didn't cheat when our marriage was falling apart, so why the _hell_ would I cheat now?"

She paused, silently conceding that he had a point.

::::::::::::::::::

"But if all you're going to do is fight me on this," Kate said in a low voice, "I'm going to need you to leave. I had a really stressful night, and if my boyfriend is only going to add to that, it'd be better if I spent tonight by myself."

Josh let out a breath. "That's probably a good idea. I need to think about some things."

She watched with mingled feelings of hurt and relief as he walked to the door.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob and looked over his shoulder at her. "I'll call you tomorrow."

She didn't reply, but watched silently as the door closed behind him.

::::::::::::::::::

"Richard, darling?"

Rick turned from the door to see his mother coming down the stairs.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

He sighed heavily and took a seat on the couch; Martha followed suit. "Gina thinks I cheated on her with Beckett."

"Why would she think such a thing?"

He turned and showed her the bruise.

She was silent for a moment. "And you _didn't_ cheat on her with Beckett?"

He groaned. "No! But at this point I wish I had. Apologizing for cheating probably would've been much easier than getting her to believe me when I told her what really happened. And if this actually _was_ a hickey, that would mean I made out with Beckett, which I'm sure is infinitely more enjoyable than having a light shone in my eyes and being interrogated for information I don't have before being sedated." He took a deep breath and fell silent.

Martha, who had listened to his rant as understandingly as only a mother could, laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. I'm still seeing spots, but at least the only gun involved was filled with a sedative, right?"

She smiled softly. "Absolutely. But I meant about Gina."

"Oh." He thought briefly of their fight, and indignation bubbled up in his stomach, followed by a twinge of regret. But then he thought of waking up next to Beckett – the vulnerable look on her face, the scent of cherries, the warmth and weight of her head on his shoulder, the way she didn't jump away when she realized how close she was to him… his heart did an odd sort of flip flop in his chest.

He swallowed hard. "I don't know."

**Last Call**

Kate Beckett didn't believe in the supernatural. Miracles, Santa Claus, love at first sight… all wishful thinking. She knew she wasn't nearly optimistic enough to have any kind of hope that these things existed, and sometimes prided herself on being so grounded. Openly, she scoffed at Rick Castle's belief in "signs from the universe," but in the back of her mind, sometimes she wondered…

Late one Friday night, Kate found herself with an evening with nothing but free time, and a boyfriend with an equally open schedule. Things had been a bit rough between them lately, but she couldn't deny that he'd been making a concerted effort to fix things. She'd invited him over for dinner and a movie, but was floored when he offered to help with her research instead.

"Why do you look so surprised?" Josh asked with a laugh.

She shrugged. "It's work. It's Googling a bartender and his family, so it's not even _fun_ work."

He smiled. "That's okay. I want to help."

She eyed him curiously. "You really want to help me work on your night off?"

"What can I say? I'm just an awesome boyfriend like that."

She couldn't help the little flicker of warmth she felt, and grinned. "That you are," she agreed. "Thanks, Josh."

He placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Just remember this the next time I'm being an idiot."

Laughing, she poked him in the side. "Deal."

She led him into her bedroom, and grabbed her laptop off her dresser before joining him under the covers. She couldn't help but smile as he pulled the blanket up around her and draped his arm over her shoulders; he really was a fantastic guy.

She was just opening her computer when her phone rang.

"Look at you, Miss Popularity," Josh joked.

She rolled her eyes at him, but smiled as she grabbed her phone from the nightstand.

"Who is it?" he asked.

Worried about what the fallout might be, she tilted the screen his way, so he could read the name: Castle.

She watched him nervously for his reaction. She saw a brief flash of something she couldn't identify in his eyes, before he looked at her.

"Aren't you going to answer it?"

"Uh, yeah," she said quickly. She accepted the call. "Beckett."

"Beckett!" Castle said by way of greeting. "I think I know how Donnie got shot."

"You _what_?"

"Know how Donnie got shot."

"So do I; Pickup Pete pointed his gun and pulled the trigger. That's how Donnie got shot."

He groaned. "Way to go all literal on me."

She chuckled. "Castle, is there a point to this?"

"Yes, I think I'm on to something. Meet me at the Old Haunt?"

She sighed, and glanced at Josh somewhat guiltily. "Okay."

"Pleeeease? I really—wait, what? Did you say 'okay'?"

"Do you want me to change my mind?"

"I—no, of course not! I'll see you there!"

She hung up and turned to Josh, only to find him smiling somewhat sadly at her.

"You have to go, don't you?"

She sighed, feeling bad about having to leave and about not feeling worse about having to leave. "Yeah, I'm really sorry."

He took a deep breath, but shook his head. "Don't be. Trust me, I get it."

She touched his arm. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "And thanks for offering to help. Though, if his theory's wrong, I may need to take a rain check."

He smiled. "Anytime."

She leaned in for a quick kiss. "I don't know when I'll be back, but you can stay if you want."

He settled himself lower in the bed and grinned. "Don't mind if I do. I've always thought your bed is more comfortable than mine."

She laughed. "But if I come back to find my apartment in ruins, I know who to blame."

It was with a small pang of guilt that she stepped out of her apartment and closed the door behind her. Here she was, with a gorgeous, brilliant, sweet, and damn attractive man, but willing to leave at the drop of a hat to go check up on some presumably wild theory. What was _wrong_ with her?

Just then, her phone vibrated. She slid it open to find a text from Castle.

_I know what you're thinking, and no, you're not crazy for listening to me._

She grinned, and everything simultaneously made more sense and became that much more confusing.

* * *

A/N: blech. can that be the last time i write about Josh? please? writers, can we get him out of there? lol.  
since i won't have the chance to update on the exact day, i'd like to wish Move You a happy one year anniversary! :) thank you all for sticking around for this long, i sincerely appreciate it!  
happy (early and/or belated) holidays to all! now, how about you review for the final time in 2010? ;D


	13. Episodes 3x11, 12, 13

A/N: it feels like it's been a lifetime and a half since this corner of the fanfiction world has been updated! so i guess it's only fitting that it's back with a bang, right? ;) i went from being uninspired by Nikki Heat (despite its awesomeness), to being SO inspired by Knockdown that i had to cut myself off. three stories later and STILL more ideas - holy epic episode, Batman! though i don't know what i was expecting... leaking the scene with Beckett's dad but cutting it out of the episode basically just handed me a story idea! and, not gonna lie, i'm kind of proud of some of these.  
sorry, i'll shut up now! :)

* * *

**Nikki Heat**

"If you keep frowning, your face might get stuck like that."

"No it won't," Rick Castle answered melancholically.

Martha shrugged. "Okay, so it won't. That doesn't make it any more attractive."

He sighed. "Thanks."

"What's got your panties, and, uh, forehead, in a twist?" she asked, sitting down next to him on the couch.

He made a face and rubbed his forehead as if trying to iron it out. "I don't think I like having Natalie Rhodes around."

"Ahh," Martha said with a knowing grin.

He glanced at her suspiciously, but continued. "I definitely respect her more now, even though she doesn't seem to care that I created the character she's obsessively trying to become, but there's still just something about this whole situation that I can't put my finger on…"

She chuckled and shook her head in amusement.

Rick sighed exasperatedly. "Okay, mother, what's the joke?"

She looked at him. "You really don't know what you don't like about having Natalie shadowing Beckett?"

He shook his head.

"You don't want to share!" she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're used to having Beckett all to yourself, and now someone else is stepping in on your turf. It's enough to make anyone insecure."

"I'm not insecure!" he exclaimed, perhaps a little too quickly.

She patted his arm sympathetically. "Of course you're not, darling."

"But what I don't get is why Beckett is so okay with Natalie following her around!"

"Well, why wouldn't she be?"

"Maybe because she fought me tooth and nail when _I_ wanted to? Maybe because I had to pull strings with the_ mayor_ to be allowed to? But nooo, Natalie makes one phone call and is allowed to just waltz in!" Martha hummed in thought, and he continued. "I mean, yes, she's a fan of Natalie, but she was a fan of me too! So what was so much of an issue with me?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Beckett is a heterosexual female. You're a good-looking, charming, successful man. Think about it."

He waved her off. "Mother, Beckett's not like that. She's not intimidated by men, especially not me. Men are intimidated by _her_."

"Including you?"

"Of course! And I'm not one to be intimidated by a woman—"

"Obviously."

He made a wry face. "Thanks."

"So why are you intimidated by Beckett, then?"

He let his breath out in a huff. "I don't know! There's just something about her. She's different." There was a beat of silence. "Wait!" he exclaimed. "Do you think that's why—? Because she thinks I'm—?"

Martha just smiled cryptically, stood up, and headed upstairs.

He sat in stunned silence for a moment, before making a beeline to his office. He'd definitely be getting a lot of writing done tonight.

**Poof You're Dead**

"I broke up with Gina."

Kate took a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching it turn to mist and swirl away in the light breeze. She and Rick had indeed caught the Comfort Food Truck, and were currently working their way through macaroni and cheese and a shared order of fried chicken sliders. They'd decided to sit on a nearby stone bench to eat, probably a bit too close to each other, Kate realized. But, she reasoned, it was cold outside; they just wanted to share a bit of body heat to keep warm, right? Right.

She briefly thought of faking surprise at the news of his breakup, but upon meeting his gaze, her planned 'really? I'm so sorry!' turned into a guilty, "I heard."

To her relief, he chuckled. "You were eavesdropping on me?"

"No!" she said defensively. "You should learn to not have private conversations in public places!"

He laughed. "No, I know. You'd think I would've realized by now that those hallways are very deceptive in their privacy." _I mean, I only caught you kissing Demming there, _he thought. He rolled his eyes at himself.

"I'm sorry though," she said honestly, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Even if you two were fighting, breakups suck."

"Thanks," he said with a smile. "And yes, they do, but this definitely needed to happen. A loveless relationship isn't good for anyone."

She nodded silently, not quite sure what to say, and was relieved when he spoke first. "So tell me more about this magic grandfather of yours."

She smiled, knowing that he wanted to change the subject and willing to oblige. "There's not really much more to tell. He started teaching me little tricks as soon as I could talk—"

"Like what?"

"All the basics. Pulling something out of someone's ear, making a coin disappear, mind reading…"

He laughed. "My mother taught that to Alexis last year."

She grinned. "It's such a bummer when you learn the secret, isn't it?"

"But so much fun to watch people gasp about something so easy!"

"True," she laughed. "It was a big hit with my friends in junior high."

He grinned. "Do you have any other hidden talents I should know about?"

She eyed him for a moment, before standing up and walking back to the food truck. "Brian?" she asked, peeking into the window.

The truck's owner appeared in a moment, toweling off his hands, and smiled. "Yes, Miss Kate?"

She grinned. "Do you have any spare parchment paper?"

Ten minutes later, the bench she shared with Rick was full of paper creations.

"Origami," he said in disbelief. "So awesome. Where'd you learn all this?"

"My grandma," she answered, putting the finishing touches on what she was working on. "Between her and my grandpa, visiting that house was always an adventure." She held it out in her palm. "A frog. And it jumps, too." She pressed down on its back end; when she released it, it hopped feebly in Rick's direction. "Okay," she amended. "When it's made out of an index card, it jumps."

He laughed, and held it up to examine it more closely. "Awesome," he said again.

"I don't really remember much, and I'm kind of out of practice," she said. "But I saved the best for last."

He grinned and put the frog down. He loved watching her when she was focused on something; the little wrinkle that formed in her forehead, the intense look in her eyes, the way her lips parted slightly. He let his gaze linger on her face for a moment before dropping to her hands. He'd known they were slender and graceful and beautiful, but there was something fascinating about watching them create. She worked with neat precision, the light in her eyes telling him that she was surprised by how quickly the skill was coming back to her. He watched as she made different folds, creasing each sharply with her thumbnail. He got so lost in watching her work that he'd almost forgotten that she was making something until she held it up.

"A paper crane. Japanese culture says they're lucky." She held it out to him. "Here. For post-breakup happiness."

He smiled at her in the way that always melted her into a puddle, complete with twinkly eyes and those damn dimples. When he took the crane from her, his fingers brushed hers.

"Thanks," he said softly.

"You're welcome." She was suddenly very unsure of what to do with her hands.

"Wanna know a secret?"

She looked at him curiously, and nodded.

"I only know how to fold one thing," he said, picking up a spare napkin and unfolding it, "And it doesn't have a single fold."

She laughed. After a moment of gentle rolling and twisting into shape, she found herself looking at a rose on a long stem, complete with a leaf.

"Bright side of not having a girlfriend?" he asked, holding the flower out to her. "I can give a fake flower to a beautiful girl without anyone getting jealous."

Despite herself, she blushed furiously. "Thanks," she said, taking it from him. Their fingers brushed again.

That night, Kate went to sleep with the rose on her nightstand and a smile on her face.

**Knockdown, #1**

"I went through all of that nine years ago," Kate said, shaking her head. "There's _nothing._"

"Yeah, well, a lot's happened since then." She looked at Rick, and he shrugged slightly. "Maybe you missed something."

She looked back at her makeshift murder board. Rick watched her chew the inside of her cheek for a moment, almost able to hear the wheels turning in her head. Quite abruptly, she turned on her heel and strode over to the coffee table. She picked up her phone, dialed a number, and held it to her ear.

It only took a few seconds for the person on the other end to answer.

"Hey dad," she said softly.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Half an hour later, there was a soft knock on the door. As Kate went to answer it, Rick stood up; despite not being an awkward teenager anymore, he still felt strange about not showing a girl's father the utmost respect.

Jim Beckett stepped through the door as it was opened, a dark wooden box under one arm, and wrapped his daughter in a hug with the other. She buried her face in his shoulder for a moment before collecting herself and stepping away.

"Rick," Jim greeted with a slight smile, holding out his hand. "I wish I could say I was happy to see you, but as we only seem to cross paths under unfortunate circumstances…"

Rick chuckled, and gripped his hand briefly. "I completely understand."

Jim shifted the box in his hands, and turned to Kate. "Well? Shall we?"

She took a deep breath. "Yeah, I guess we shall."

The box was placed gently on the kitchen island. Kate had to hide her shaking hands as her father opened it. This was where her mother had kept her most important items; prescriptions, notes and papers for cases she was working on, her appointment book, and the stray photo or two. No matter how much time had passed, Kate always hated going into this box. It was like a twisted sort of time capsule of her mother's last weeks, but neither she nor her father dared remove anything permanently. It was an unwritten, unspoken rule; the box doesn't change.

She swallowed back the bitter taste in her mouth as she gazed once again upon the objects that had been so important to her mother, eyes immediately drawn to the small journal. Johanna had always felt the need to scribble something, so while it didn't contain anything particularly personal, Kate found that reading it was like having a glimpse into her mother's mind. So, while Rick and her father began poking around, she gently picked up the book and retreated to her top step to look through it.

The pages had begun to get yellow and stiff from disuse, still indented from where Johanna had pressed her pen into them so many years ago. Kate turned each page slowly, even though she knew there was nothing valuable to the case on any of them. Despite herself, her heart leapt a little bit every time she saw her name amongst the notes.

She heard her father sigh, and looked over. He had a bottle of pills in his hand.

"Expired June 13th, 1999," he read, his voice breaking with emotion. "Twelve years later and I still can't bear to get rid of them."

Rick looked up at her, and their eyes met. He smiled in a sad, comforting sort of way. She felt a wave of emotion crash over her and looked back down at the journal, the words blurring before her eyes.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"You've been awfully quiet."

Rick abandoned the papers he was looking at, looking instead at Jim. Kate had gone to the bathroom, leaving the two of them alone for the first time. He shrugged sheepishly. "I'm not really sure what to say."

Jim leaned on the island and surveyed him for a moment. "You're a father, right?"

Rick nodded. "One daughter, same as you."

Jim nodded as well. "And how do you feel about her?"

"She's my world," he said softly.

"So you understand how much I love Katie."

Rick swallowed hard, and nodded. "Absolutely."

Jim paused, surveying him again before he spoke. "Why are you here?"

Rick's first instinct was to get defensive, but he heard no trace of malice in the man's voice. This was just a father asking an honest question. "Because she needs someone to be," he answered honestly. "I don't know if it's necessarily _me_ she needs, but…" he sighed. "Her boyfriend's off saving the world, and that's great. But Kate needs someone here to save _her_. Well," he amended hastily, "not that I'm saying she can't save herself, but—"

"No," Jim broke in. "She can't. She _could_," he said, giving Rick a significant look, "but she _can't_. She's been saving herself for too damn long. A lot of that's my fault, I realize that, and it eats at me every day of my life." He swallowed hard. "My daughter needs someone that can be good to her in her life. Now, I have no power to tell you or Katie what to do… but Rick, I'm trusting you with her."

Rick smiled slightly as he remembered one of his and Kate's first encounters. _"Either you're the guy who makes my life easier, or you're the guy who makes my life harder. And trust me, you do not want to be the guy that makes my life harder."_

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm here to make her life easier."

Jim took a breath and stood up straight again. He nodded towards the kitchen counter. "The flowers are nice."

Rick's brow furrowed. "How'd you know that was me?"

Smiling slightly, Jim tapped the side of his nose and gave a slight wink.

"Are you sure you're not a detective too?" Rick asked with a chuckle.

Jim laughed as Kate reentered the room. She stopped short, and glanced between the two of them. "Should I be worried?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, we were perfectly well behaved," Jim answered with a smile. "But I think I'll be heading out now, I have a meeting."

"Okay," Kate said, smiling softly and wrapping her arms around him. "Thanks for coming."

Jim squeezed her tightly. "Stay strong, baby girl," he said, kissing the top of her head. "You can do it."

She nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "I love you."

Rick was surprised that those three words knocked the wind out of him as efficiently as a dropkick to the stomach. It occurred to him that he'd never heard her say them to anyone before. Something inside of him was awoken, but he ignored it; this was neither the time nor the place.

When he parted from his daughter, Jim once again turned to shake Rick's hand.

Rick smiled as they shook. "I hope I never see you again."

For a moment he was afraid the other man wouldn't understand his humor, but Jim chuckled and gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder. "My sentiments exactly."

Kate rolled her eyes at the two of them, but smiled as she showed her father out.

Once she and Rick were alone again, she nodded in the direction of Jim's departure. "AA," she said in explanation. "He still goes every now and then."

"When things get particularly stressful?"

She nodded, and smiled somewhat sadly. "Something like that."

Rick took a deep breath. "Well," he said. "We've still got some work to do. Can I treat you to some Chinese takeout?"

She pretended to consider the offer. "I think I could get behind that idea."

"But only of the obnoxiously unhealthy variety," he said, pointing an admonishing finger in her direction. "This is a situation of the deep-fried variety."

She grinned. "Menu's in the top drawer under the phone."

**Knockdown, #2**

It had always been a policy of Rick Castle's to avoid spending time in an ambulance. Because an ambulance meant injury, and an injury meant a higher amount of pain than he really cared to deal with. But with his throbbing hand wrapped in bandages, and Kate Beckett's knees _thisclose_ to his, he thought vaguely that he'd be willing to sit in that ambulance like that all night.

"You should ice that," she said, gesturing to his hand. "Or typing might not be fun for awhile."

He looked at her, aghast. "Oh my god, I didn't even think about that!"

She looked at him strangely. "Aren't you always looking for ways to procrastinate? One has just been handed to you! Quite literally, actually," she added.

"No, no no no, not after nights like this!" He pointed to his head. "I've already got about ten chapters worth of material up here!"

"I'm sure it'll still be there in a few days."

He sighed, pouting slightly. "I guess needing your hands for your livelihood is a good reason not to get into fights on a regular basis, huh?"

"So where'd you learn how to throw a punch like that?" she asked, a slight smile on her face.

"Ummmm…" he said, wincing as he experimentally flexed his fingers. He shrugged. "Instinct?"

She raised her eyebrows. "You've never been in a fight before? Isn't fighting some stupid male right of passage?"

He shrugged again. "I grew up with my mother dating a never-ending line of men who got into bar fights like it was a religion."

"And you didn't want to be like them?" she asked. Suddenly she poked his shin with her toe. "Stop fidgeting."

Indeed, he had been compulsively adjusting and readjusting the bandages on his hand. He smiled guiltily and sat on his free hand, causing her to roll her eyes. "Yeah," he answered. "I think a lot of it was subconscious, but even as a kid, I never saw fighting as being cool. That, and the fact that I'm not a particularly angry person."

She grinned; it was one of the things she most appreciated about him. "This is true."

"It takes a lot to get me to the point where I'm seeing red. Well, until this week," he added with a chuckle.

She looked at him curiously. "This week?"

"Oh come on, you're the one that nearly put Vulcan Simmons through the mirror!"

"Yeah," she said slowly. "And?"

He was suddenly feeling self-conscious, and looked down at his hand. "And maybe I thought you had the right idea."

"And by that you mean…?"

"That maybe Ryan had to stop me from continuing what you started."

He met her gaze again; her face registered nothing but shock.

"Hey, don't look at me like that! You heard what he was saying to you!"

"Yeah, I did, but… I…" she shook her head slightly in disbelief. "You're usually such a teddy bear." Perhaps just realizing what she'd said, she blushed.

He sighed wistfully. "Oh, so many inappropriate jokes I could make here…"

She pursed her lips to try to keep from smiling; of course, she failed miserably. "I will refrain from hitting you only because you hurt yourself saving my life."

"And would've hurt myself defending your honor if given the opportunity," he pointed out.

She laughed, and bit her lip. "Yeah, that too."

He smiled warmly, and a moment passed in comfortable silence before she touched his knee. "Let me drive you home."

"Sure," he said, getting to his feet and hopping to the ground. He turned and offered his hand to help her down, but she glared at him pointedly. He realized he was holding out his injured right hand. "Oh, right." She rolled her eyes as he offered her his left hand instead, but took it nonetheless and stepped down gracefully.

Most of the walk to her car was made in silence, but halfway down the block, she spoke again.

"Castle?"

He looked at her. "Yeah?"

"Let me know if you ever need someone to defend your honor." She smiled. "I've got a mean left hook."

He didn't bother hiding the fact that he couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

**Knockdown, #3**

Neither of them were sure exactly when it happened.

But when Raglan hung up the phone and she struggled to catch her breath, his was the only name on her mind. And when she showed up at his door looking nervous and lost and in need of a friend, he simply picked up his coat and closed the door behind him.

When the question was asked, the words "someone I trust" slipped from her lips easily, without second thought, and she meant them. And when he saw the blood on her shirt, the first thought chasing the blind panic through his mind was something about how his life as he knew it was over.

When Vulcan Simmons was oozing disrespect from every pore, he was seeing almost as much red as she was. And when watching her storm out of the precinct without a backward glance reminded him of the last time she made such an exit, showing up at her apartment became not a matter of whether he would, but when.

She didn't remember giving herself conscious permission to invite him into her apartment, especially when she was a broken, rumpled, tearstained mess. Nor did she know why she expected him to be there. But she did, and he was. With her favorite flowers. (When had she told him that?)

He didn't quite know when he'd given her such power over him. But there he was, feeling the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, when she uttered two simple statements – no, Josh didn't know; and it all started when he was in the Hamptons. Away. Not there. Spending his time with another woman that couldn't hold a damn candle to the one with blood on her clothes, tear tracks down her cheeks, and a fire in her soul.

She didn't know when she'd decided it was okay to use his first name. Last names keep people at a distance. And maybe she was damn tired of keeping him out.

But suddenly, it was okay for him to sneak into the precinct to get her what she needed, and it was okay for her to let him.

It was okay for him to beat unconscious a man that was trying to kill her.

It was okay for her to ask him for a dumb idea, and it was okay for her to listen to it and actually follow through.

It was okay for him to suggest being a drunk couple in love as their cover.

It was okay for her to giggle and stumble into his arms, and know he'd catch her. He was always there to catch her.

But he didn't know if it was okay for him to kiss her, and she didn't know if it was okay for her to enjoy it so much.

But he did, and she did. She reeeally did.

And then she kissed him again; she couldn't help it. It was with a pang (that was far more gut-wrenching than she'd like to think about) that she realized this might be her only chance to kiss him senseless. So she took it.

He didn't think it was quite right to be kissing a woman that was in a relationship _this_ passionately. But then again, he wasn't really thinking anymore. Just feeling.

Neither of them were sure exactly when it happened. But both were absolutely sure that it had.

* * *

A/N: regarding Poof, i have a magician grandpa just like Beckett! he doesn't have any crazy contraptions, but i DO know how to do all those little tricks. mine does origami too, and i thought it'd be fitting for the story (and yes, i can make frogs that jump. and yes, index cards are the only material that works, lol).  
regarding Knockdown #2, did anyone else squeal when the man who'd previously avoided all physical confrontations beat a man unconscious to save his lady? :D  
and remember: reviews are a writer's crack! feed my addiction?


	14. Episodes 3x14, 15, 16, 17

A/N: i've noticed a pattern in my writing: i tend to write post-eps, and from Beckett's point of view. so i reeeeally tried to stay away from that this time around... but damnit, i failed. horribly, lol. The Final Nail was begging to be continued, and if you thought i'd let Countdown end as it did, you must be smoking something very interesting! lol. what i really wanted to write was "Josh fell off a cliff. the end." ...but that'd be too easy! :P

* * *

**Lucky Stiff**

"_That's_ what you're wearing?"

Kate Beckett stopped short and looked down at her dress, confused. "Yeah. Is there a problem?"

_YES THERE IS,_ Rick Castle wanted to shout. _You look absolutely beautiful and I don't know how I'm going to be able to keep my hands off of you!_

But instead, he clenched his hands into fists in his pockets and smiled. "Nope, not at all."

She looked at him for a moment, eyes narrowed suspiciously. It took every ounce of concentration he possessed to force his gaze to remain trained on hers. Normally he had no problem whatsoever looking into her eyes… but normally she wasn't showing this much leg.

Those legs.

God _damn_.

It took him a moment to realize she was smirking at him, and he suddenly felt a bit hot under the collar (as if he wasn't feeling warm enough already).

"So," he said, a little too enthusiastically, "what's the plan for tonight?"

One of her eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly upward, and she headed towards the closet as she answered. "The plan is what it always is, Castle."

He took the opportunity to give her a proper once-over now that her back was turned, and groaned inwardly. This was going to be a _long_ night. _Almost as long as her legs_, snickered a little voice inside his head. He ignored it, though conceding ruefully that it had a point.

"You'll turn on the charm and get Oz wrapped around your little finger, and I'll try to avoid being collateral damage?"

She chuckled as she rifled through her coats. "That sounds about right."

He sighed mock dejectedly. "Why do I get the hard job?"

"Hey, if you'd like to act like you want to jump the bones of a drug dealer and possible murderer, be my guest."

"Something tells me that wouldn't work nearly as well."

She emerged from the closet in her coat. "Than I rest my case."

"Mmm," he hummed in agreement. "I guess I'll have to be content with holding your drink while you do the dirty work."

"Oh, don't feel too bad. That's not all you'll get to hold."

He raised his eyebrows.

She glared at him. "I'm talking about my handcuffs."

His brow furrowed. "Why?"

"They don't fit in my dress."

His eyes lit up as he grinned. "I like this on so many levels!" He held his hand out for her cuffs.

She rolled her eyes. "Not yet."

He pouted a bit. "Why?"

"Because," she said simply, reaching out and smoothing his lapel. "You need to change first."

She was touching him. _Holy crap, she was touching him._

His heart rate was suddenly through the roof. As if just realizing what she was doing, she blushed and quickly dropped her hands.

A few seconds passed in an extremely loud silence, before Rick cleared his throat awkwardly and spoke, his eyes twinkling. "Change? I thought you liked me the way I am."

All awkwardness gone, she rolled her eyes and smacked his arm.

He laughed. "This _does_ mean you'll have to spend time with my mother."

Kate smiled. "Good. Let's go."

"Wait, _good?"_ he asked, following her to the door.

"That _is_ what I said, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but…"

"But _what?_" she said with a chuckle, opening the door and stepping aside to let him walk out._ "_I _like_ your mother. And I haven't spent time with her in forever, for which I blame you."

"I think this is the first time a woman has ever complained about _not_ spending time with my mother," he said matter-of-factly.

She smiled. "Yeah, well, not having one of my own might make me a _bit_ more appreciative." She met his eyes, and was shocked by the genuine warmth reflected there.

He smiled. "It's lucky we found you, then."

**The Final Nail**

Kate Beckett and Richard Castle had never spent Valentine's Day together before.

The thought struck Kate suddenly as they were sliding into a sticky booth at some nameless bar near Damien's brownstone. They had met in March (crap, was she really able to remember that?); the next year, it was on a Sunday, and she'd somehow ended up with the day off. But now?

Now they each had a shot glass in front of them, and Rick was muttering something about it being 5 o'clock somewhere and she was hurting for him.

She raised her glass in a toast. "People suck."

He held up his as well. "Except us."

"Yes, we're awesome," she stated matter-of-factly.

A smile flickered over his face (and hers, of course; she couldn't help it), and they downed their shots in unison.

Rick called a waiter over and asked for two more, with the caveat of "it's been a rough day."

She couldn't argue with him there. Hell, it had been a rough week.

He was looking morosely down at the table, picking absentmindedly at a scorch mark on the wood, and damnit, she was hurting for him again and didn't know what to do about it.

Their second round of shots came, and Kate was momentarily glad for the distraction. But after the alcohol burned her throat and her glass hit the table with a satisfying thunk, the indecision was back. She watched him trace a finger around the rim of his glass for a moment or two.

"I know how you feel," she said.

Wait, why did she say that? Ah, hell. She could always blame it on the alcohol.

"You do?" he asked, sounding as if he was quite apathetic about the answer.

"Yep," she said with a nod. "A person that was such a huge part of who you are turned out to be not nearly as wonderful as you remember him to be." He met her eyes, and she smiled wryly. "I've been there."

She saw the light bulb go off over his head.

"Royce," he said simply.

She smiled sadly. "It took me awhile to realize that the fact that my training officer was a sleaze doesn't make me any less of a cop. So _please_, trust me," she said, leaning forward and putting her elbows on the table, "Trust me when I say that Damien being a killer doesn't make you any less of a writer."

She didn't know why, but she _needed_ him to believe her. It was beyond a want at this point. He _had _to. Just so he'd stop making that sad face that made her heart feel like it was being wrung out, if for no other reason.

But as soon as he smiled at her, she almost wished he would make the sad face again. Because that little smile was making her feel things that she should _not_ be feeling, at least not about him.

"Thanks," he said softly, before letting out a chuckle. "Give me a week or so and I'll believe that."

She smiled. "I suppose that's a reasonable request."

He sighed. "This whole thing, though, it's making me think… I think I have too much faith in people."

"Faith is good sometimes," she said softly.

"I know, but shouldn't I be more cynical? I'm a New Yorker, born and bred, yet I still expect the best from people, even after I've been let down more times than I can count. Shouldn't I suspect _everyone_ of murder and have them prove their innocence, instead of the other way around?"

"No," she said adamantly.

"Why not?"

She chuckled. "Because that's what _I'm_ like."

"And what's wrong with being like you?" he asked, a shade of his cheerful self beginning to peek through the grime of disappointment.

"Because the world needs people like _you_."

Oh, whoa, that was much more honest than she'd wanted to be. But now he was looking at her strangely and she was feeling a bit hot under the collar, so she continued.

"If everyone thought the way I do, the world would be made up entirely of killers and detectives. That may sound like a theme park to _you_," she added with a chuckle, "but it'd be no kind of life."

He smiled, a real smile this time. "Does this imply that killers are often cynics?"

"Cynics and crazies tend to be the major categories, yes."

"Well, since you're cynical and I'm crazy…" She laughed, and the grin that crossed his face was completely involuntary. "Do you think you're capable?"

"Of what?"

"Killing someone."

He watched her face grow serious and shocked, before a befuddled smile graced her lips. "Did you forget?"

"Forget?"

Elbows still on the table, she raised her hands. "They've already got blood on them."

He waved her off. "Come on, that's not the same."

"Isn't it?"

"You only kill people when you _have_ to. That's very different than killing for selfish reasons."

She smiled, touched, unbelievably glad he held this opinion. "That's what I tell myself. But isn't killing to protect people I care about considered selfish?"

He paused, and observed her for a moment. "No."

"No?"

"No. You care about everybody. _Not_ killing to protect people would be against your nature."

She swallowed the wave of some nameless emotion that she felt rising in the back of her throat. "That doesn't make me a killer?"

"Nope." He said it with an air of finality, warning her nonverbally not to dare argue with him because if she did, he'd win this one.

So she just smiled and said, "What about you? Do you think you'd be able to?"

"The way Damien did?" He shook his head. "Absolutely not. But there's no doubt in my mind that I would kill to protect a select few. Or try to, at least," he added, his eyes twinkling.

She knew he was referring to the several times he'd saved her life, and her heart did a weird sort of flip flop in her chest. "Well," she said, making a huge effort to keep her voice steady, "For the number of times I've found myself at the wrong end of a gun, I guess it's lucky I'm one of them."

He laughed, and it was as if he'd momentarily forgotten everything that had happened that day. "It used to make me uncomfortable to admit to myself that I'd kill someone if the right situation arose, but the number of times you've found yourself at the wrong end of a gun makes it a bit more palatable!"

"See, speaking as a civilian, I don't think being willing to kill to save a life is a bad thing," she said, resting her chin in one hand. "It means you care, right? That there's someone _so_ important to you that you'd rather have a dead body on your conscience than lose them?" She shrugged a shoulder. "I mean, those are the relationships that define us. They're the ones most worth being in. So I obviously don't condone the actual _act_ of killing, but I'd worry if someone didn't have the sentiment. It's what makes a person human."

She couldn't read the way he was looking at her and it was making her nervous. She was suddenly very aware that she'd killed for him before and wondered if that's what was going through his mind as well, because damn if it wasn't the only thing _she_ could think of anymore.

She jumped when the waitress asked if she could get them anything else.

Rick ordered another drink for himself, adding "And something non-alcoholic for the lady."

Kate raised an eyebrow.

He tilted his head, looking at her imploringly. "I won't have you showing up to your Valentine's Day dinner with your boyfriend drunk on my account."

She smiled and ordered a Coke.

**Setup**

They were escorted out of Captain Montgomery's office by two stone-faced agents. Kate strode directly to her desk and grabbed her coat before realizing that Rick wasn't at her heels; she paused and waited for him to catch up. They proceeded to the elevator side by side and in complete silence, very much aware that they still had a federal detail following to their every move.

Kate pressed the button to call the elevator. When it arrived, she and Rick stepped inside. The agents attempted to follow, but Kate stopped them with a look.

"I think we can take care of things from here," she said coldly.

As the elevator doors were closing, she could've sworn she saw one of them giving her a slight sympathetic smile.

"Why did you do that?" Rick asked suddenly.

She looked at him. "Do what?"

"Tell the truth!" he answered.

"Alright, Hanzel, you're going to need to leave a few more breadcrumbs than that."

He groaned. "Why did you tell Fallon that you knew what I was doing?"

She raised an eyebrow, and the elevator dinged, having reached the ground floor. "Because I did."

"But you know you shouldn't have gone along with it," he said, stepping out of the elevator and holding the door open for her as she exited as well.

"So?"

"So you knew it'd get you in trouble! Don't you want to be on the case?"

"Castle, of course I do. You know that."

"So why didn't you lie? I would've understood. Getting myself kicked off isn't that big a deal, but now they have to try to solve this case without _you_."

She sighed. "That'd be a crappy thing for a partner to do." She pushed open the door to the precinct, and he followed her out onto the sidewalk.

"Look, I appreciate the sentiment," he said, "I _really_ do. But isn't working this case a little bit more important than potentially hurting my feelings?"

She stopped, and turned to face him. "What, you're giving up?"

He shrugged, as if to say 'what else can we do?'

She observed him for a moment, weighing her word choice, before speaking. "I believe it was a certain plucky sidekick that once told me that all the best cops do some of their best work after they've been kicked off a case."

His face split into an evil grin. "I was hoping you'd say that."

She felt her lips curving into an identical expression. "Your place or mine?"

**Countdown, #1**

Kate Beckett woke up shivering that night.

It had been the absolute longest day of her life, and the threat of being blown to smithereens had temporarily driven the terror of the freezer out of her mind. But her brain was clearly aware of what was plaguing her the most, and took her straight back to her frozen prison the moment her eyes were closed. So, despite the extra layer of blankets and Josh's warm body next to her, she awoke with a start, fingers and toes tingling with the memory of the cold, unable to stop trembling.

She swung her legs out of bed. Logically, she knew she should just cuddle closer to her boyfriend to share his body heat. But dealing with almost dying had always been a solitary process for her, and she wasn't quite ready to show Josh that side of her.

No, what she desperately wanted right now was to take a bath, or a shower at least. She was halfway to the bathroom when she realized that the running water would almost certainly wake up her bedmate, rendering moot her decision not to stay in bed.

After a moment's hesitation, she piled on an extra sweatshirt, grabbed her phone (just in case), and headed into her living room, where she took a seat on the floor next to the heating vents.

She had almost died in that damn freezer. Hell, she thought she _had_. She'd felt her world going black and knew she wasn't going to wake up again… but then she did. She'd had to know her end was coming much quicker than Castle's was, and pass out knowing that she was leaving him to presumably die alone.

Stifling a sob, she rested her head in her hands, threading her fingers through her hair. That was the thought that got her every time; that he would have to sit there with her dead body and wait for the darkness to claim him too.

Tears still burning the backs of her eyes, she slid her phone open to compose a text.

_I know you went home to get some rest, but is there any chance you're still awake?_

Sent. She leaned her head back against the wall and forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down. Having a breakdown wouldn't help anything.

His response came quickly enough to tell her that she didn't wake him.

_As a matter of fact I am. What's cookin' good lookin'?_

She smiled, and felt herself begin to relax a bit.

_Just need a friend. You up for the job?_

She thought vaguely that it might not be entirely kosher to feel the need to talk to Castle while Josh would certainly be happy to help. But then her phone buzzed and she didn't really care anymore.

_You're usually not one for silly questions. I'm disappointed!_

She chuckled. Only Castle could bring her from crying to laughing in sixty seconds flat.

_You didn't answer the question._

Of course, she knew what his answer was going to be, but the last 24 hours had left her feeling a bit unstable and needing to hear it.

_Of course I am, whenever you need me. And maybe even sometimes when you don't._

She laughed.

_Maybe?_

Her shivering had stopped, which she thought was probably a good sign.

_Okay, definitely. What's on your mind, friend?_

Kate sighed. She really didn't want to have this conversation through text.

_The freezer. Would you mind a whispered phone call?_

Her phone rang almost instantly, and she answered it just as fast.

"I'll take that as a 'no,'" she said softly, very thankful that she'd closed the door to her bedroom when she left it (and even more thankful that Josh slept like the dead).

He chuckled. "Hey, I take my job very seriously."

She smiled, but her mind was too heavy for her to be able to come up with a witty retort. He seemed to be able to interpret her silence.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She took a shaky breath. "I haven't had nightmares since my mom died," she confessed in a whisper, throat tightening rapidly. "Usually if something bothers me enough, I don't fall asleep at all. But tonight, I…" her voice broke. She took a deep breath and tried again. "Tonight I fell asleep and promptly froze to death."

It was his turn to remain silent; she swallowed thickly and continued, feeling an overwhelming urge to just get it all out. "It was one of those really weird dreams where you're conscious enough to have a thought process. So I felt like I was having a panic attack because I _knew_ I was going to die." A single tear escaped, and she wiped away furiously. "And you were there, and I felt _so bad_ because I was dying on you _again._" She half laughed, half sobbed. "As if living through it once wasn't enough."

"Please don't tell me you feel bad for passing out before I did," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

"No, I know I had no control over it," she said, blotting her eyes. "I'm smaller than you, and inexplicably chose yesterday to _not_ wear a long coat. But…" she took a deep breath. "I mean, it was scary enough dying with you there to talk to. I can't imagine what it would've been like had you been unconscious."

Silence fell for a moment. Kate took a shaky breath and closed her eyes, feeling several tears seeping out anyway.

"You're right, though," he said, sounding like he was having some difficulty getting the words out. "Losing you in there was the scariest moment of my life."

She took a deep breath, attempting to quell the feeling that she was choking on her heart, and wiped at the tears that were now falling freely. "What about when you lost Alexis in the mall?" she asked.

He let out a shaky breath. "That was different. That I had some control over, ya know? _I _was looking for her, _security_ was looking for her, _cops_ were looking for her. But with you, I just…" he swallowed thickly, and when he continued, it was in a much weaker voice. "You were dying in my arms. And I couldn't do a _damn thing_ about it." She heard him sniffle, and wondered if he was crying too. "I had to sit there and just… hope someone would come before you died."

She noticed that he hadn't once mentioned being afraid of his own death. That realization really did choke her this time.

"I'm sorry," he said after a few beats of silence, "That was a lot. I didn't mean to be overwhelming."

"No," she said quickly, glad her voice hadn't failed her. "No, I'm glad I heard it."

"Do you want to go back to bed?" Maybe it was just her, but she thought he sounded a little insecure as well. Maybe he had needed a friend just as much as she had.

"No," she said, exhaling slowly. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back again. "Just… stay with me for awhile?"

She heard the smile in his voice when he spoke.

"Back to the silly questions, are we?"

She couldn't help it; she smiled too.

**Countdown, #2**

"So."

Javier Esposito straightened up from his desk to see Castle and Beckett standing solemnly in front of him.

"Yes?"

"You saved our lives," Beckett said.

Something was up. He narrowed his eyes. "Yeah…" She looked at him pointedly, and he suddenly knew what was going on. "Uh, I mean, Alexis is the one who called. Without her—"

"We know," Castle said.

"And it wasn't just me, Ryan—"

"We've already gotten to him," Beckett said. "You're not getting out of this."

Esposito sighed, knowing he was beaten. He craned his neck to look past Castle and Beckett, and then turned to glance furtively over his shoulder. "Alright," he said grudgingly. "The coast is clear. Let's make this quick."

He and Beckett each stepped forward. They wrapped each other in a brief hug before stepping quickly away.

He straightened his shirt and glanced around the bullpen again.

She groaned exasperatedly. "No one saw. Relax."

"Alright. But," he said, turning to Castle, "Don't get any ideas."

Castle grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it." Instead, he held his hand out for a feed the birds, which Esposito completed with an appreciative nod.

"Seriously though, Esposito," Beckett said, smiling genuinely. "Thanks." Castle nodded fervently beside her.

"Well," Esposito said, "at the risk of making you two think it's okay to get yourselves locked in freezers…" he smiled as well. "Anytime."

"But we promise," Castle said, with a reaffirming glance with Beckett, after which they both shuddered. "No more freezers."

* * *

A/N: so here's the thing. i turned 20 on Feb. 21st, the day Setup aired. i'm kinda bummed that i didn't get Beckett breaking up with Josh for my birthday, but i'd be much less bummed if my wonderful readers got me to 200 reviews! ;D (and thank you to all my reviewers for the amazingamazingamazing feedback! you sure know how to make a girl smile!)


	15. Episodes 3x18, 19, 20

A/N: over 200 reviews! YAY! you guys are the greatest! :D  
so, you've probably already noticed that this isn't one of my longer installments, and not by a long shot. these episodes have been kind of eh, so i did my best. i think they came out okay, there's just... not much, lol. (i was drawing a complete blank for Slice of Death for a solid three days, i'll have you know!)

* * *

**One Life to Lose**

"Are you _still_ looking up Castle's mother on that show?"

Kate looked up and eyed Josh over her desktop. "'That show' has a name. And yes, I am." She turned her gaze back to the screen and scrolled through yet another page of results on Google.

"Babe, it's been an hour."

"Josh, she was on Temptation Lane thirty years ago. Thirty years times two hundred and fifty episodes. You do the math."

He sighed. "I just don't understand why it's so important for you to find her episodes."

She looked at him incredulously. "Because she's someone I know and like!"

"And the fact that you like this ridiculous show has nothing to do with it?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you picking an argument with me over Castle's mother or Temptation Lane? Because, really, just pick one."

"Kate, it's a _soap opera_," he said in frustration. She breathed a sigh of relief. Being a fan of a soap opera is something she could defend. Caring so much about another man's mother? Not so much.

"And?" she asked pointedly.

"It's ridiculous," he repeated.

"I'm not denying that."

"So why do you watch it?"

"Because it's a guilty pleasure. We all have them. Just because you're all evolved and superior to watching TV doesn't mean we all are. I watch the drama on Temptation Lane when I don't want to deal with the drama in my own life." She's surprised at how well she's keeping the annoyance out of her voice.

"I understand that. But couldn't you watch something decent? Like—"

"Like what, Jersey Shore? The Real Housewives of New York? Gossip Girl?" she asked sarcastically. Addressing him seriously now, she said, "Nothing on TV is exactly Shakespeare, Josh."

"Exactly! Hence why I don't watch any of it."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, look. My mom and I used to watch this show together. So can you just leave it alone, please? You're not going to convince me to stop watching it."

He sighed, knowing he was beaten. "Alright."

She shot him a small smile. "Good. Thanks," she muttered, returning to her search.

A moment passed in silence before Josh spoke again. "I really wish you'd tell me about your mom sometime."

Kate bit the inside of her cheek, not looking at him. "Sometime," she agreed reluctantly.

"That's all I ask," he said, smiling genuinely at her. "Whenever you're ready, I want to listen."

She nodded vaguely. "Mhm." Making a few more clicks, an involuntary grin split her face. "Oh my god."

Josh looked up from his seat on the couch. "What?"

"I found them," she said with a giggle, scanning through the website. "Oh my god, 1980s Martha Rogers!" He chuckled at her obvious glee, and she looked over at him. "Do you want to watch Castle's mom get trapped in a cave with bears?" she asked with a grin.

"I think I'll pass, but thanks," he said, chuckling again.

She shrugged, and clicked play. "Your loss."

**Law and Murder**

"I have a confession to make."

They sat in the slowly-filling theater, munching on their popcorn ("Candy is for when the movie gets really good!" Kate had insisted. "It makes less noise.") with their feet propped up on the seats in front of them. Rick felt like a teenager on his first date.

She looked at him. "A confession?"

He nodded and popped another kernel into his mouth.

"Alright," she said apprehensively. "What's up?"

"I lied."

"You lied?"

"If you do not speak English, I am at your disposal with 187 other languages along with their various dialects and sub-tongues," he said.

Her mouth fell open as she recognized the line of dialogue from the movie. "Oh my god, you lied," she breathed. "You _so_ lied."

"I did," he said matter-of-factly. "Alexis and I can recite this movie line for line. And—HEY!" he cried as she threw a handful of popcorn at him.

"Liar!" she exclaimed, whacking him on the back of the head. "Why would you _do_ that?"

"Because you were so cute and excited about it," he said, still cowering a little bit as he ruffled his hair to get the popcorn out of it.

"Oh, no," she said, shaking her head adamantly (and staunchly ignoring the slight blush she felt heating her cheeks), "you lied _before_ you saw I was excited about it. Did you do it so I would invite you to come along? Because if you had just told me the truth I would've invited you anyway."

He blinked. "Really?"

"Yes, really," she hissed. "You liar."

"I'm sorry," he said with a chuckle, "but look at the bright side!"

Her eyes narrowed. "What bright side?"

"It gives us an excuse to go to Remy's after the movie. You treated me to this, and I want to treat you to that."

"You need an excuse to invite me to Remy's?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.

"No," he said. "But I thought you might need an excuse to say yes." He flicked a popcorn kernel in her direction.

She plucked it from her shirt and sighed, fighting a smile. "Remy's it is."

"Good," he said happily.

A beat passed in silence before she spoke.

"Colloquial English will do fine, thank you," she said, completing the dialogue from the movie that he had begun earlier.

He grinned. "Kate Beckett quoting Leslie Nielsen. It doesn't get much better than that."

She smirked. "Oh Castle, if you only knew."

**Slice of Death**

Anonymity.

This was not a concept that Richard Castle was used to dealing with. Not for the better part of the last 15 years, at least. And especially not in a bookstore.

But on the other side of the table at a book signing, he was granted an hour of blessed peace. Ironic, considering he was in the middle of a sizeable line. The crowd, however, was too focused on the guest of honor to pay Rick any attention. He was able to settle himself on the floor in front of a bookshelf and happily busy himself with some of Gordon Burns' more prolific passages while waiting for the man himself to show up.

It had been ages since Rick had been to a book signing other than one of his own, so he expected to feel right at home amidst the chattering fans. And he did – there was something about coming together for a singular purpose that he had always felt bonded people. But today, instead of being the outgoing charmer that he always felt himself playing the role of, he was perfectly content to simply observe.

He saw a man that was clearly a military veteran, clutching his book with an excited gleam in his eye. There were two women wearing smart business suits, poring over their copies and chatting about the various points Burns made about politics. Impressively, there were several teenagers huddled in a corner; they looked a bit awkward, like they felt out of place, and each carried what looked like a worksheet. Rick wondered if the book had been an assigned reading project, and if they had to ask Burns some questions for their report. And then there was Rick himself, fascinated by the man's passion, intrigued by his research and ideas, and wholly impressed by his writing style.

He smiled. He's always loved how a book could bring so many different people together.

A roar went up at the front of the line, and Rick knew that Burns had finally made his appearance.

"Seven o'clock on the button!" said the older woman next to him with a smile. "I do love when authors are on time to their own signings!"

Rick grinned at her and nodded in agreement, silently filing away that piece of information for his own use.

The line wound slowly towards the front of the bookstore, Gordon Burns creeping closer and closer into view. As his turn approached, Rick found himself smoothing some imaginary wrinkles out of his shirt.

At long last, he stepped up to the table. As Burns took his book with a smile, Rick noticed a slight question in his eyes.

"You look awfully familiar," Burns said. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Maybe," Rick answered with a chuckle. "My work is a few sections down." He held out his hand. "Richard Castle. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Burns whacked himself on the forehead. "Of course! Richard Castle!" He shook Rick's hand. "The pleasure's mine, my friend. I'm a huge fan."

Rick waved him off. "Stop, you're making me blush!"

With a laugh, Burns opened his book to the inside cover. "Dare I assume that I'm signing this to you?"

"Yes indeed," Rick said. "I'm not usually one to read up on war, but I gotta say, the way you write makes all the difference. You make non-fiction read like fiction! Strong characters, plot, foreshadowing…"

"Coming from a best-selling author of fiction, this is high praise!" Burns said, scrawling a message and signing his name underneath. "I'm truly honored."

"Daddy!" interrupted the small girl sitting to his right. "Look what I colored!" She pointed excitedly to the coloring book in front of her. "I stayed in all the lines!"

"That's beautiful, sweetie!" Burns exclaimed, planting a kiss on her head. "It's going right on the fridge when we get home!"

Rick smiled as the girl looked up at him. He winked. She blushed furiously and hid her grin in her father's arm.

"Alright sir, let's keep the line moving," said the burly security guard stationed behind the table.

"Right, of course," Rick said courteously. He turned to Burns and held out his hand again. "Mr. Burns, it's been an honor."

Burns grasped his hand. "Please, call me Gordon. Thank you so much for coming out today."

Rick smiled, and turned to the little girl before he left. "Ya know," he whispered conspiratorially, "sometimes coloring outside the lines isn't such a bad thing."

Her big brown eyes locked on his. "Really?"

He nodded matter-of-factly. "Oh yes. You're the only person that can color the things you imagine."

Her eyes grew wide, as did her smile, and she nodded.

With a final wink, Rick straightened up, bid the Burnses adieu, and headed towards the bookstore's exit, whistling under his breath.

* * *

A/N: alright, here's the deal. i'm going to Israel on May 16th, so i won't get to see Knockout until a week and a half later. *sobs.* so my plan is to update after 3x23, and give 3x24 it's own, so i don't have to hold everything (and keep my wonderful readers waiting!) until May 26th at the absolute earliest. just want to keep you in the loop!  
i don't have my birthday to bribe you with this time around, but review please? :)


	16. Episodes 3x21, 22, 23

A/N: These last few episodes were pretty good, but much harder to write for than I thought they would be. More on them later. But for right now, HOLY CRAP, the sneak peeks for the finale are KILLING ME. I cannot believe it's going to be another week and a half before I can watch it! Ugh ugh ugh. :'( Write this a review to make me happy? ;)

* * *

**The Dead Pool**

"Beckett."

"Kate, hi," greeted Alex Conrad when she picked up the phone.

"Hi Alex," she said with a smile, pouring herself a cup of coffee and making sure the break room was empty before engaging in a non-work related conversation. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to make sure we're still on for tonight."

"Oh yeah, definitely," she answered, leaning against the counter. "How was poker last night?"

"Um… I'm not really sure."

She chuckled. "How are you not sure? You were there, weren't you?"

"Yeah. It was… well, I never pledged a fraternity, but I imagine that's what last night felt like."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you ever been ganged up on?"

"Yeah."

"That's what last night was. Several hours of it."

Her brow furrowed. "What did they do?"

"Mostly they poked fun at me for being an amateur. Everything I said was discounted because I've only written one book. It's like I couldn't do anything right." She heard him blow out a breath. "But it's no big deal. I figured I'd be getting into something like that."

"That doesn't sound like the Richard Castle I know…" Kate muttered, half to herself.

"Me neither," Alex agreed. "It was like something changed in the last two days."

"Something did change," she said suddenly; it had all become clear. "Me."

"What do you mean?"

"Alex, I don't think we can see each other anymore."

"Are you breaking up with me?" he joked.

She laughed. "Sort of, yeah."

"Was it something I did?"

"No, it—"

"Let me guess. 'It's not you, it's me.' Am I right?"

"No. You're right about it not being you, but it isn't me either. It's him." She rolled her eyes. "It's always him," she muttered.

"What, Castle?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "I don't think he's happy that I'm helping you out."

"Oh." Alex paused. "Does he have exclusive rights to you or something?" he joked.

She chuckled. "Not legally."

"But otherwise?"

She wasn't quite sure how to answer. "Look," she said finally. "Castle's my partner, and my friend. Clearly the fact that I'm helping another writer is bothering him enough to make him lash out. And as much as I like talking to you…"

"He was here first."

"Sort of." She blew out a breath. "I have to take his feelings into consideration. And I don't want to do anything that makes him this uncomfortable. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said. "I really appreciate the help you gave me. And I have to respect reasons like that."

"If it makes you feel any better, I know a couple of guys that would love to have a writer of their very own."

"Really?" She smiled; he sounded excited. "Are you sure they wouldn't mind?"

"Please," she said, waving him off. "They'll be thrilled. Maybe a little bit _too_ thrilled."

He laughed. "Well, if that's the case, that would be great!"

"You can still come by later, if you want. I'll let them know."

"I'll be there. And thanks, Kate. For everything. Castle's lucky to have you."

"I didn't exactly draw the short straw either," she said quietly, with a smile.

**To Love and Die in LA, #1**

She knew she shouldn't be surprised.

As soon as she unfolded Royce's letter at the crime scene and read the first few lines, Kate Beckett knew it was something she'd have to read in private, simply because she wasn't one to get emotional in front of others.

For that whole day, it lingered in the back of her mind; despite how things ended between the two of them, she still knew who Royce really was. He wasn't one to beat around the bush, he wasn't one to make excuses, and he wasn't one to betray those who trusted him. Sure, she conceded, he'd done it to her mere months before, but on some level she knew that was just an unfortunate by-product of the situation.

For that whole day, she worried about what that letter might say. She sincerely hoped it wouldn't change the image she had of her mentor, her first partner. As terribly as things ended, she still had those first years to hold onto.

But as she read what he'd been so determined to say to her, she wasn't disappointed.

"_I'm not going to make any excuses_," it read. _"I don't know why I did what I did. Hell, we both know plenty of guys who managed to convince themselves the wrong thing was the right thing. The fact that I fell into the trap haunts me, and the fact that my weakness almost got you killed is something I have a hard time dealing with._"

That's when it started. Tears were suddenly burning the backs of her eyes, and it was much harder to breathe than it should've been. Against her better judgment, she continued reading.

"_So why am I writing this? Because I think there's a chance we might never talk again. And if that happens, I don't want you thinking that I had any hard feelings about the way things went down between us. You did what you had to do, and I'm as proud of you now as I ever was."_

Kate Beckett had prided herself on her self-control for her entire adult life. But this was one of those instances where she flipped her self-control the bird. At the end of that paragraph, she put her head down on the table and cried.

She cried for the cop who'd taken her under his wing when she was green and desperate for a ray of light in her dark life. She cried for the first person who'd understood her obsession and never stopped her from chasing closure, but refused to let it drag her under yet again. She cried for Royce, a damn good man that she'd missed out on a lifelong friendship with because of a few bad choices.

_If only_.

The words reverberated around her skull, making her nauseous and heartsick. She read between the lines of what Royce was telling her and knew that he'd died with her as one of his regrets, and she _hated _it. Because he was sure as hell one of hers.

She'd deal with what he wrote about her and Castle later.

Right now, she was digging an old picture out of the back of her closet and putting her name on the standby list for a flight to LA.

**To Love and Die in LA, #2**

The hotel suite was silent as they packed. Kate (_oh crap, when had he started thinking of her as Kate instead of Beckett?_) hadn't talked much in the car ride back either, and Rick was perfectly okay with giving her space and time to think. He _was_ worried about her, though, and it was with a sigh of relief that he glanced out of his open door and noticed that she'd left hers open as well.

Baby steps.

He was finished and playing Angry Birds on his phone in the living room when she emerged from her room, packed bag in hand. He caught her eye and she smiled sadly, enough to make him quit his game and slide his phone into his pocket as she sat down next to him.

She didn't speak, though. She was silent for so long that Rick stopped expecting her to say something, and was surprised when she did.

"He knew."

He looked at her, confused. "Who knew?"

"Royce," she answered quietly. "He knew exactly what I'd do when I found out he was killed."

_Oh_. "The letter he wrote you?"

She shook her head. "Something Ganz said."

She fell silent again, clearly still very much hurting that her former partner's final words were uttered to his murderer. Rick touched her knee gently, a wordless gesture of compassion and support, and she took a deep breath and continued.

"He told me that Royce said something about hell raining down on Ganz," she said. "He knew his death would be avenged."

Rick smiled softly. "And he was right."

She smiled sadly again, her eyes wet, and all he wanted to do was return to the cool underside of the pier and kill Ganz himself for causing her this much pain.

"Am I really that predictable?" she half-joked weakly.

He shrugged. "Isn't that a good kind of predictable to be?" She looked at him, and he continued. "You probably gave him a little bit of peace in his last moments. He knew you'd fight for him. That's not being predictable, that's being a good partner." He smiled and nudged her with his elbow. "Guess I picked the right detective to pair up with, huh?"

She chuckled (at which he mentally gave himself a high five) and rubbed a hand down her face. "Just don't go getting yourself shot in the head, okay?"

"Just the head?" he faux whined.

She rolled her eyes and bit back a smile. "Okay. No new holes of any sort, anywhere. Got it?"

He nodded solemnly. "Got it. Looks like it's time to break out my vest again."

She half-groaned, half-laughed and shoved his shoulder. "You're insufferable."

"Oh, you love it!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Is that right?"

"Yes it is."

"And why, pray tell, do you think so?"

He grinned, leaned in a fraction, and pointed at her. "Because you're smiling."

A knock sounded at the door and Rick stood to answer it, leaving his dumbfounded partner to gather herself and follow him.

**Pretty Dead**

Kate Beckett was a trained detective. And she knew she was good at her job. She was able to read most people without too much of a problem, so as soon as she and Castle left Baron's after talking to him and his wife, she knew something was up.

Mostly because her partner was smirking so hard she thought it should be illegal.

After several exasperated minutes (in which he was completely silent, for once), she gave in.

"Okay, Castle. What's the secret?"

He chuckled. "There's no secret."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, something has you looking like the cat that ate the canary."

"Yep," he said happily. "Baron called me a detective."

Her brow furrowed. "He did?"

"Well," Rick amended, "not explicitly. But when he asked us to speak with him upstairs, he said 'detectives.' As in plural." He grinned.

"So," she said slowly. "You're happy that you… look like a cop?"

"Yes!" he said triumphantly. "Have you noticed that that's _never_ happened before? People we talk to always call me out on my… I don't know, my haircut. Or my watch." He paused. "Is it really that obvious I have money?" he muttered, mostly to himself.

Kate shrugged. "You _do_ dress well."

He looked pleased. "Thanks. And today I got mistaken for a detective!"

"And that's cause for celebration because…?"

"Well," he said, suddenly extremely preoccupied with something out his window, "I mean, I admire you guys, and what you do, ya know? So, I mean, being considered one of you, by an outsider, it's pretty cool."

She smiled. "What, having us consider you one of us isn't enough?"

It was her turn to look determinedly out the window, but didn't need to be looking at him to see the look on his face

* * *

A/N: re: To Love and Die in LA - (#1) was anyone else hoping we'd see some more emotion from Beckett? I paused the episode when it showed the letter, and that's the text I included. It almost made ME cry. I'm having trouble believing that she didn't have a serious breakdown! And (#2) did anyone else notice that Castle didn't call her "Beckett" a single time? :D It was all "Kate"!  
re: Pretty Dead - it took me forever and a half to figure out what to write. Between studying for/taking finals, packing up my dorm room, and moving out/flying home, there wasn't much room in my brain and/or schedule for Castle. I was HOPING to have a certain breakup to write about, but alas...  
But anyway, I hope everyone enjoys the finale on Monday! I'M SO JEALOUS! I'll be somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean on my way to Israel (which, don't get me wrong, I'm super excited for)! Expect an update before the month is over, definitely - I get back on the 26th, but will probably want to watch it a thousand times and have a LOT to write! Ugh, I'll stop using exclamation points now, lol.  
Remember, reviews make my day a thousand times better. ;) Shalom for now!


	17. Episode 3x24

A/N: Crap, I said this would be up by the end of May, didn't I? Well, it's June 2nd. Deal with it :P. My trip to Israel was rather phenomenal, but left me with an ear infection and a broken toe, so I had to go to the doctor the moment I stepped off the plane and couldn't even watch the finale until later that afternoon. And then I'm pretty sure it made my brain explode, so I couldn't even process it, let alone start writing anything, for days. So WOW this was difficult! (But holy crap, that episode was amazing.)

* * *

**Knockout, #1**

Richard Castle was bigger than her.

Granted, Kate Beckett knew this already. But it was never something she gave a conscious thought to; it was simply a given, just assumed. He's over six feet tall and solidly built; of course he would be bigger than her.

But the reality of this fact didn't cross her mind until he was using his size against her.

It was because of his size that he was able to pick her up when she refused to move.

It was because of his size that he was able to drag her from the hangar. She kicked and she screamed and she fought him tooth and nail, but damnit, he was too big for it to make any difference at all.

The fight had almost gone out of her by the time they got back outside, but she was prepared to resist him when he pressed her up against the car. And she did; there was a brief moment of protest, where some foggy corner of her mind scrolled through every martial arts maneuver she knew and realized she could have him on the ground in five seconds flat.

But then his hand was over her mouth and his eyes were on hers, and it wasn't his size preventing her from moving anymore.

"I'm sorry," he whispered desperately, pushing her hair off of her forehead and stroking her arm with his free hand as she sobbed. "I'm sorry."

Her hand comes up to touch his face of its own accord, pleading with him to let her go, to make her stay, to end the gut wrenching grief tearing her apart from the inside out. Her captain was walking into his own death to save her from hers, and she didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve any of these wonderful people surrounding her because she surely must be a terrible person.

Her knees gave out and she slid a few inches down the car, but Rick held her securely. Like he always did. Her sobs had quieted and he removed the hand covering her mouth, using it now to wipe away the tears still coursing silently down her face.

Gunshots rang out. Kate closed her eyes and fought the urge to throw up. Rick pressed his forehead to hers.

"Oh my god," he whispered, his voice cracking.

Kate realized that she was gripping his arm with one hand and his back at the other, and was holding him up as much as he was holding her.

Two more gunshots. They were like a knife through her chest, and she sobbed again as her head fell forward to rest on his shoulder. It gave her an absurd sense of comfort and relief that, as terrible as this was, and as much as she just wanted to curl up and die, she'd at least have someone to go through it with. And she wouldn't want to go through it with anyone else. She pulled back from him enough to be able to look at him, and Montgomery's words rang in her ears.

_I will stand with you._

Another shot was heard, and Kate knew in her gut that this was the final one. She could tell that Rick did as well; his grip on her went slack, and she pushed away from the car and ran.

She didn't know if she was running to something or away from it.

**Knockout, #2**

The sky was far too blue, the sun was far too bright, and the noise on the street was far too loud.

Though he'd written them countless times, Richard Castle wasn't one for your typical grief clichés. And yet here he was, thinking nasty thoughts about everyone he passed with a smile on their face as he made his way to Kate Beckett's apartment.

It was several hours before Captain Montgomery's funeral. He really wished his first invite to her home had been under better circumstances.

They hadn't had a legitimate conversation since their fight. She'd ignored his calls the entire next day, and then in the hangar… he shivered. You couldn't really call that a conversation.

He hadn't gone back to the precinct in the following days. The last thing she'd said to him was that they were over, and since that had never been remedied, he thought it'd be wise to operate under the illusion that it was how she really felt. Better safe than sorry. He wasn't quite sure he was ready to face a Montgomery-less precinct, anyway.

So when she called him and told him to meet her, Ryan and Esposito at her apartment, he was out the door before he hung up the phone.

He was the last one to arrive. She greeted him with a somber face and let him inside, where he sat on the opposite side of the couch from her.

Silence sat thick and heavy in the room.

"Does everyone know the whole story?" Kate asked eventually, eyes still downcast.

Rick nodded.

Ryan took a deep, shuddering breath. "I think we're missing some of it," he said, nodding in Esposito's direction.

Esposito spoke up in agreement. "The last I heard is that he was the third cop."

"That was the extent of it," Kate said. "He didn't orchestrate anything. Whoever's behind this threatened to expose the three of them unless they gave him their ransom money."

"And now he's killing everyone," Esposito said numbly.

Kate nodded. "It seems so," she sighed.

"And he didn't tell you who's behind it?" Ryan asked.

Tears burning the backs of her eyes, she shook her head. "No."

"Why not?"

"To protect me." She swallowed hard. "He thought I'd go straight to him if I found out who it was, and that it'd get me killed." She was silent for a moment before saying, "He died to protect me."

If ever a silence was deafening, it was now.

She plowed on. "They wanted me. Montgomery had me meet him there to bait them. And then he forced me out of harm's way…" her voice broke, and she raised her eyes to meet Rick's.

"And they killed him." Even in his grief, there was an undercurrent of fury in Esposito's voice.

"God _damnit_," Ryan said, wiping at the tears that were now rolling down his cheeks.

Kate took a deep breath. "Montgomery made a mistake. A huge one. But he spent the rest of his life trying to make up for it. And if a lifetime of remorse doesn't absolve him of his sin, than I don't know what does." She looked around the room; no one looked unhappy with her statement. "No one," she said emphatically, "no one outside this immediate family _ever_ needs to know about this. As far as the world is concerned, Roy Montgomery died a hero. We owe it to him." She looked at Rick. "All of us."

He looked up and met her eyes.

"He did die a hero," Ryan said. "He died protecting one of his officers in the line of duty."

"And he took, what, five bad guys with him?" Esposito asked with a hint of a smile. "Cap did always like to do it big."

The tension in the room lifted infinitesimally, and Kate figured this was as good a time to end the conversation as any. "I should probably start getting ready. I'll see you guys over there?" (She couldn't bear to say the word funeral.)

The guys nodded their assent and stood up. As they began to file out, Rick realized he hadn't said a damn thing. He hung back.

"Hey," he said quietly once Ryan and Esposito were out in the hallway. "We should probably talk."

She took a deep breath and nodded, meeting his eyes. "Later, okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

She shot him a small smile. "Okay."

He stepped into the hall and heard the door close behind him.

* * *

A/N: I've never lost anyone (knock on wood), so I've never felt anything close to what I tried to write about. I hope I did okay! And if I didn't, I hope it wasn't too annoying or stupid or horribly offensive. :)

Wow, so this is it for Move You until October-ish, isn't it? Awww :(. I want to thank you (or "toda" in Hebrew ;]) all so much for reading, reviewing, favoriting, alerting, etc. This story has kind of turned into my baby, and I'm so glad you guys are having as much fun reading it as I am writing it! I'm taking a creative writing class in the fall, so the next time this is updated, I'll actually have some training (gasp!) and might know what I'm doing before I do it, lol.

I'll be writing a post-finale something-or-other really soon, so don't be strangers this summer! Lehitraot!


	18. Episodes 4x01, 02, 03, 04

A/N: HI GUYS! :) Are you as excited as I am for the rest of this season? 'Cause, uh, holy crap.  
In other news, do you remember the beginning of season 3, when I wrote a story or two longhand at work because I didn't have enough free time that week? Well, that looks to be my new norm, as 3/4 of these were written while I was on shift. So I was paid to write fanfiction. I know, right?

* * *

**Rise**

"Are _you_ okay?"

Jim Beckett started, and turned to look at the woman next to him. Though they'd just spent hours at the hospital together, he hadn't spent much of it talking to Martha Rodgers. He supposed it was because his mind-numbing concern for Katie mildly hindered his capability to conduct small talk.

He looked at her for a moment and she laid a hand on his arm, sympathetic in a way only a parent could be. He rubbed a shaking hand down his face.

"I am now," he said. "As long as my girl's alive, I can't really complain about much."

At his words, Alexis sniffled and tore her eyes away from the hallway her father had just vacated.

"I can't imagine how you must be feeling," Martha said. "Parents aren't supposed to see their children so close to death. It's supposed to be the other way around."

Alexis cringed. Jim smiled faintly. "I wish I could say I've gotten used to it. But these things never get any easier."

"Does this happen a lot?" Alexis asked, frown lines creasing her forehead.

Jim sighed. "I think once is plenty, don't you? It's never been this bad. Physical harm is an inherent risk that comes with her job, but somehow she's…" his voice broke, and he tried again. "She's always managed to come out pretty much unscathed. That being said, though, I won't pretend that I enjoyed her apartment being blown up."

"How do you deal with it?" Martha asked. "I've never been the mother of a cop before, so I need some pointers," she joked.

Jim's smile was a little stronger this time. "I'm not sure I can give advice. Katie's situation is pretty unique. If she wasn't a cop for such a… personal reason, I might've tried to talk her out of it."

Martha smiled warmly. "She's a special girl. Every mother deserves a daughter that would go to such lengths to get her justice."

"She is," Jim agreed. "I just hope she doesn't get herself killed in the process."

He saw Alexis's hand tighten on her grandmother's arm. "And you're okay? I mean, after seeing her get shot right in front of you?"

Jim swallowed rather painfully. "No. No, I'm not. I'm sure that's one memory that'll haunt me to my grave."

Martha sighed sadly. "As if you needed another one of those."

He flashed to that night almost thirteen years previously, the red glare of police lights, the rehearsed air of the detective's platitudes, Katie clutching his arm and burying her face in his shoulder, shaking violently. He took a deep breath. "Could've done without it," he agreed.

"So why don't you tell her to stop?" Alexis asked fiercely. "If it's making the both of you suffer like that, isn't it not worth it anymore?"

Jim shrugged halfheartedly. "It's what she wants to do. It's what she loves, her passion. I can't stop her. And even if I could, I wouldn't. She's not happy unless she's out there being a superhero."

The girl's eyes were still hard as the doctor reappeared. "Mr. Beckett, you can come with me."

"It was lovely seeing you ladies," he said, inclining his head. "I only wish it could be under better circumstances."

Martha smiled knowingly. "What with our kids, I'm sure we'll have other chances."

**Heroes and Villains**

"You okay, Castle?" Kate asked as she rubbed dry shampoo through her hair; new information in the case unfortunately meant no time to shower after her workout.

"Yeah, fine. Why?"

She eyed him skeptically. "Your head is clearly not here right now. You sure there isn't something wrong?"

Rick sighed. "Okay. It's Alexis."

"Still? Come on, we talked about this," she said patiently. "You don't have anything to worry about."

"You haven't heard the latest development yet," he said broodingly.

"New development?"

"She wants to major in economics."

"So?"

"That's Ashley's major."

"So?"

He sighed. "She's picking that major _because_ it's Ashley's major. She wans to sign up for the same classes as him in the spring so they can 'spend more time together.'"

Kate cringed. "Oh."

"Now you see my problem?"

"Yes. Following a boy to a great university is one thing. Taking every class with him is _quite_ another."

"She's setting herself up for disaster, right?"

"_Yes_," she said emphatically. "Either they'll see each other so much that they'll get sick of each other, or she won't make friends because she's always with him. Or both." She sighed. "It's just an all around bad decision."

"So I should make her see reason."

"I don't think you can," she said. "I think she's going to have to figure this one out on her own."

"But—!"

"Look, she's going to be in college, and across the country at that. Do you think you're going to be able to tell her what to do from 3,000 miles away? Your days of that kind of control are basically over."

He pouted, and was silent for a moment. "What's the craziest thing you've ever done out of love?"

She smiled. "Became a cop."

He chuckled. "Touché. But for romantic love? Have you ever followed someone across the country?"

She shook her head. "No. By the time I'd reached prime romantic gesture age, I wasn't really in any fit state to be making them. I came close once, though."

"Yeah?"

"Yep," she said, nodding. "Will was transferred to Boston when we were together and wanted me to go with him."

"And you almost did?"

"Mhm."

"What stopped you?"

"Practicality. Logic. Common sense. And," she said, forestalling his interruption, "because I know you think these are cardinal sins when it comes to relationships… the fact that he chose Boston over me meant I could easily choose New York over him. And I think a part of me always knew he wasn't the one it'd be worth following, ya know?" She shrugged. "It's that whole one-foot-out-the-door thing."

"Do you wish you'd followed him?"

Kate snorted. "What, are you kidding?"

He chuckled. "Hey, had to ask."

_What's the craziest thing YOU have ever done for love? _The question nearly slipped out of her mouth, but her trusty common sense kicked in just in time, and she caught herself. The L-word was still far too touchy a subject for her to feel comfortable breaching it, especially knowing what she knew… remembering what she remembered. She was fairly certain that it didn't get much crazier than trying to take a bullet. Or staring down a ticking bomb. Or getting locked in an industrial-sized freezer. Or being held captive at gunpoint.

Luckily, Rick spoke again before she could fish for the right thing to say.

"But I can take away from this that you stopped yourself. I mean, Alexis is rational. She'll come around, right?"

"Most likely," Kate said honestly. "I can't see her sacrificing what she wants to pursue for a boy, even if she _is _in love."

"Good," he said, relieved. "Me neither."

"But as her dad, it's your job to support her in her potentially reckless decisions."

"Like becoming a cop?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

She made a face, but chuckled. "Yes."

"Fair enough," he said. "And I know. I plan to, as difficult as it may be to watch…" his voice trailed away into low grumblings.

She put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Relax. You ready?"

"Yeah, whenever you are."

"I'm good to go." She grabbed her keys and led the way.

**Head Case**

"So," Rick said, sitting back against his headboard and adjusting his phone against his ear, "you're telling me that Hamilton was a mad scientist?"

Kate let out what sounded like half huff, half chuckle. "Not necessarily…"

"Come on, the man was illegally practicing surgery on people in a seedy motel room! Tell me that doesn't scream 'horror movie.'"

"Okay," she conceded. "It does give off a very Frankenstein-like vibe. Apparently the whole room was sealed off with plastic, too."

Rick shuddered. "Ew. I don't care if the guy was trying to lengthen people's lives, this sounds sadistic."

"Agreed," she said. "The whole damn case is like a weird sci-fi plot line. Frozen people, bloody needles, futuristic surgeries…"

"All we're missing is some sort of monster," he said. A beat passed in silence, during which Rick debated saying… well, she's technically the one who brought it up first… and she sounded as skeeved as he felt… _Ah, screw it. _"So, do the – does the whole 'frozen people' thing freak you out a little bit, or is it just me?"

"I'm going to assume you're not talking about cryogenics."

"Yeah. Just the thought that people want to be frozen…"

"I know," she said softly. "I wasn't gonna say anything because I thought it was just me being ridiculous."

"I felt kind of ridiculous too," he said truthfully, getting under his comforter to ward off the chill of the memory. "I mean, of all our near-death experiences, I don't know why that one is still the most traumatizing…"

"Because it was effing terrible," she said with a wry chuckle.

He couldn't help it and laughed as well. "Yes, very well said. But I mean, the bomb debacle was pretty effing terrible too."

"Yeah, it was."

"But somehow it's not on the same level of nightmare, ya know?"

"Mhm. Freezing to death is a terror that really sticks with you."

"Exactly. And to think that people are willingly subjecting their bodies to that…"

She sighed. "I imagine it's different when you don't know what it actually feels like to be frozen."

"Yeah. And I know when you're already dead you can't feel it, so it doesn't matter anyway, but…" he broke off, trying to find a way to properly articulate the deep sense of unease that had settled into the pit of his stomach.

"I know," Kate said into his silence. "I get it. I went home and got right under my blanket."

He smiled and looked down at the one covering him. "You'd laugh if you could see me right now."

"You too?" He heard the smile in her voice.

"And fuzzy socks," he said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. She laughed and he grinned, loving the sound and feeling immensely lighter. "What, like you don't have a favorite pair of warm socks!"

"Not really," she confessed. "Just a pair of sweats that are as old as they are comfy and soft."

An image swam in front of his eyes of the two of them curled up on a couch together, her legs wearing those soft sweats and tangled with his. Quickly, though, he banished the thought. _Focus._ "There's nothing like a good pair of sweats," he agreed. "Are yours Stanford or NYU?"

"Wha— I— um, NYU," she said, sounding a bit flustered. "But speaking of Stanford, how's Alexis doing?"

Rick sighed. "Asleep on the couch when I got home. I had to carry her up to bed."

"Poor thing," Kate said sympathetically.

"I'm worried about her."

"I know. But she'll be okay."

He sighed again. "I know. That doesn't stop me from worrying, though."

"I think that just means you're a good dad."

He smiled. "Wow. Who needs parenting books when there's you?"

She chuckled. "Funny, since I'm childless."

"Well, not forever, right?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "You never know."

This time, he didn't even let the mental images form before batting them away.

**Kick the Ballistics**

They went to the Old Haunt that night. As Kate slid into a booth with her boys, she felt a momentary pang of sadness; this was their first time being there since Montgomery. Looking across the table at Ryan and Esposito, she knew they were feeling it too. So when Jenny arrived and squeezed in next to her fiancé, they were all more than happy for the conversation to turn to happier things. And when Lanie showed up and made Kate slide over to give her some room, Kate found herself nearly on Rick's lap and from then on had trouble concentrating on much else.

She was vaguely aware of Lanie plying Jenny with questions about the wedding, and frequently shooting Kate sideways looks and digging her furtively in the side with her elbow. Kate knew her friend was trying to tell her something – they're so happy and in love, you could have this too, don't you want to get moving with that already? Kate had to fight the impulse to wriggle away from Lanie's onslaught as that would mean pressing further into the man on her left, and she wasn't willing to play with fire quite that much. Yet.

For her part, Kate kept sneaking glances at him. She really did want to talk to him, but not while crammed with four other people into a booth made for four people in total. So for now, she was content to nurse her beer, listen to the various conversations going on around her, and try not to accidentally play footsie with Ryan under the table. She did feel a bit out of place, though; Ryan and Jenny were being all lovey dovey, and Lanie and Esposito were making eyes at each other from across the booth, and it was all rather sickening. Sweet, but sickening. Or maybe she was just single and a little bit bitter.

Nonetheless, she chimed in every now and then, laughing at Rick's quips and ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the details of the wedding, and was mildly disappointed when Lanie and Esposito took their leave. She missed the warmth of Rick's leg against hers as she slid over a bit; it wouldn't really be appropriate to sit that close to him now that she had more room, would it?

"So, Rick," Jenny said, "I have a question for you."

"Shoot," he said.

"What's it like being married to a cop?"

Kate was very glad she hadn't been taking a sip of her drink at that moment, because she was pretty sure she would've choked on it, both from surprise at the question and laughter at the befuddled look on Ryan's face.

"Babe?" Ryan asked her.

She laughed. "I don't mean _legally_ married, but you're her partner, right?"

Rick nodded slowly. "Not technically, but yeah."

"So that's a kind of marriage. And you don't have a badge, which limits what you can do, right?"

Rick sighed and shot Kate a sideways look. "Yeah."

"Ya know," Kate broke in, "Lanie and Esposito are probably better people to ask. They're closer to your situation."

"Yes they are," Jenny agreed, "But they're still a fairly new couple."

"True," Kate conceded.

"And you two have been you two since before Kevin and I met."

Kate paused. "You're right. Damn, it's been a long time."

Jenny smiled, and turned her attention back to Rick. "Does it ever get easier? I'm sitting here waiting to be less worried one of these days, and it's just not happening."

Rick considered his answer for a moment. "Well," he said slowly, "it's a bit different for me since I'm actually out there with her, but no, I wouldn't say it gets easier. You just learn to deal with it. It becomes a part of your life. There'll always be that worry, but it helps to know that they're always as safe as possible. And hey," he said with a smile, "Ryan wants to come home to you at the end of the day, so he's not going to run _too_ amok."

Jenny laughed and as Ryan kissed her, Kate nudged Rick under the table. He looked at her, and she silently mouthed "good answer." He smiled.

The happy couple took their leave not long after, and Kate breathed a sigh of relief. _Finally_. She stretched her legs out onto the opposite bench and looked at Rick. "So."

He angled himself so he was almost facing her, his head resting back against the wall and his knees just brushing her thigh. "So."

"How are you?"

His brow furrowed adorably. "Fine?"

She chuckled. "No, I mean… we were all so worried about taking care of Ryan through all of this that none of us ever stopped to see how _you_ were holding up." One of her feet jiggled restlessly as she saw comprehension dawn on his face. "It can't have been easy," she said quietly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said easily, "I'm fine."

"Bull," she said with a smile.

He looked shocked for a second, but laughed. "You have that little faith in my mental state, huh?"

"No, I just remember what you were like the night he got away." His gaze sobered, and she raised an eyebrow. "Didn't we jump into a pool? In _October_?"

He sighed. "Okay, you win. I'm not fine."

She was silent, and waited for him to continue at his own pace.

"It's just… it's like Jenny said. I don't have a badge. There are things I just can't do, that I'm not a part of. I can usually pretend otherwise, but situations like this remind me that I'm not actually one of you guys."

"You're a part of the important stuff," she said quietly. "You don't need a badge to be part of the team."

He smiled. "I'm glad you think so."

"Don't think I didn't notice you using an NYPD mug earlier today," she said slyly. "You're not _that_ slick."

He grinned. "Busted."

"So, is that really all that's bothering you?"

"That and the fact that I hate Tyson with every fiber of my being."

She laughed. "You most definitely don't need a badge for that."

* * *

A/N: 4x01 - Did anyone else notice Martha asking Jim if he was okay? It gave me the perfect excuse to write some Papa Beckett, since I don't know when we'll be seeing him again. :(  
4x03 - I knew I'd be writing about the freezer since seeing the first promo. Hooray for tying things together!  
4x04 - Anyone else find it weird that nobody so much as mentioned the fact that Castle was almost killed by 3XK? And did anyone else notice him using the NYPD mug at the end of the episode? First time for that, am I right? :) God, I love this show.

I think it's a mark of how dedicated I am that I just spent five hours in a van and five total hours on two flights, have yet to shower, and have to wake up for class in 7 hours, but STILL decided to post this tonight. Review to make an overwhelmed college student happy? :)


	19. Episodes 4x05, 06, 07, 08

A/N: I think it speaks to how damn busy I am this semester that I completely forgot I was supposed to post this after Heartbreak Hotel. Heh, sorry about that! Though, in all fairness, last weekend I spent four days at the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, and the week leading up to and following it were spent either preparing or recovering. So really, there was no possible way for me to write anything until this weekend at the latest anyway. That, and Heartbreak Hotel left me rather uninspired. But here we are! :)

* * *

**Eye of the Beholder**

"So Richard," Martha said with a sly smile, sliding onto a stool at the island in the kitchen. "I never asked you how your date went."

Rick cradled his glass of water in his hands, and grinned. "It was great."

He chuckled as his mother nearly clapped with delight. "Oh, that's wonderful! What'd you two get up to?"

"We went out for hamburgers," he said, stifling an eye roll at how utterly dirty her statement could've sounded. Truly, it was a good thing he understood her.

"Hamburgers?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You took her out for hamburgers?"

"She took _me_ out, actually," he clarified, taking a sip of water.

"You—" stuttered Martha, sounding utterly appalled. "You let _her_ pay!"

He shrugged. "She offered. Sort of strong-armed me into it, actually."

She sat in stunned silence for a moment before sighing. "Really, Richard. I know it's been awhile since you've been on a first date, but—"

"Come on, mother. It's not like she's a stranger! I don't really have to keep up appearances!"

Martha's eyes narrowed in confusion. "But you just met her a few days ago."

Rick's brow furrowed. "…No, I've been shadowing her for a few years."

"Wha— Beckett?" she spluttered. "You're talking about _Beckett_?"

He very nearly burst out laughing. "Oh god, and you're talking about Serena."

"Of course I'm talking about Serena! You _did_ go on a date with her, didn't you?"

"Yes I did. Well, sort of. It _was_ orchestrated. But it still kind of counts."

She sighed theatrically. "Okay. So what on _earth_ is this business about Beckett?"

He grinned. "I told you. We went out for hamburgers."

She observed him for a moment. "You took Serena to a five star restaurant, yet a hamburger with Beckett is putting that loony smile on your face?"

"I guess so," he said happily. Noticing the perplexed look on his mother's face, he sighed. "What?"

"Why are you so happy? You can't have her yet. Why don't you want to have some fun with other women in the meantime?"

He paused, and chose his words carefully. "I don't really expect you to understand why. Don't take this the wrong way, but how many times have you been married?" She glared and swatted his arm playfully. "Seriously though," he said with a laugh. "Have you ever felt that any of your husbands has been… it?"

Martha gaped at him. "Getting a little ahead of yourself there, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "I'm not saying she definitely is. Can't help how I feel, though."

"And that… that _is_ how you feel?"

"Well, I've never found my _it_ before, but… I imagine it feels something like this. I know I would've been more interested in Serena otherwise."

"Not even a little bit tempted?"

"Nope. I mean, the physical aspect was there, but… no, not tempted."

"Wow."

"I know, right?"

Martha sighed. "Look at my son, being wiser than me."

"I always have been. In case you haven't noticed, that's just how things work in this family, mother."

Her eyes narrowed. "Watch it, buster."

He laughed. "Do I still need to hang around for your acting class?"

She pouted a bit. "No, I guess not."

"Good," he said with a smile. He stood up and kissed her cheek. "I'm middle-aged now. It's about time I had an anemic social life."

She huffed and rolled her eyes. "Says you."

"Mother, the social gene is clearly being diluted as we move through the gene pool. Now, I'm going to go be the responsible adult and do my job."

"Fuddy duddy," she called after him as he headed to his office.

"You're just jealous!" he called back.

**Demons**

"I think this elevator is haunted," Rick said.

Kate looked at him and couldn't help but chuckle when she saw how tense he was. "Relax, would you?"

"Hey, you weren't the one whose life flashed before their eyes when they were in here after being cursed by a mummy!"

She snorted. "You're still on that?"

"I _swear_ that curse was real!" he exclaimed. "And the potential of an elevator plummeting to earth while you're in it is _terrifying!_"

"Okay, yes, I'm sure it is," she said. "But curses are not real."

"But I didn't press the button to call the elevator. It did that itself." He held up three fingers. "Scout's honor."

She glared at him and swallowed the peals of laughter that threatened to burst out of her. "You were never a Scout. Really, Castle, have you been following me around for _that_ long that you're forgetting you told me these things _years_ ago?"

He smirked. "I was testing you. Do you think I'd forget?"

The elevator opened on the ground floor and they exited, strolling slowly to the exit in an attempt to delay the moment they'd have to part.

"But anyway, that's not the point," Rick continued. "The point is that you just neglected to deny that a spirit pushed the button."

"Ah, so it's a spirit now, not a ghost?" she said with a smile. "Now you're more my speed."

"I – wait, what?" he stuttered, nearly tripping over his feet. "You believe in spirits, but not ghosts or demons?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, I think so. There's a difference."

"Is there?"

"Sure. I don't believe in ghosts and demons and all that haunt-y stuff. But I think if a person dies, it's possible for their spirit to still show itself from time to time."

He paused for a beat. "Okay, there'd better be a story attached to that."

She laughed and pushed the precinct door open, leading Rick out onto the sidewalk. "Indeed there is."

"And you're depriving me like this?"

"Okay, far be it for me to deprive a writer of a story," she joked. "There really _was_ a cabin my parents used to take me to during summer vacation. I seriously _loved_ that place."

"I wouldn't have pegged you as a nature girl."

She quirked an eyebrow. "You'd be surprised. Now do you want me to continue or not?"

"Please."

"Well, my mom had this thing for butterflies – which is relevant, I promise. After she died, my therapist thought it would be a good idea for me to go back to the cabin that summer. So somehow I convinced myself that I'd be fine, and I went, but of course I wasn't fine. I was a complete mess." She smiled wistfully in remembrance. "Well, when I got there, I climbed the steps up to the porch and found butterfly wings."

"Butterfly wings?"

"Yep. It was like a butterfly had exploded on the porch, and its wings were just everywhere."

His eyes narrowed. "Get out. Really?"

She nodded. "Mhm. I am _convinced_ it was my mom."

"I'm pretty convinced too, to be honest."

She smiled. "So, spirits? I'll buy that."

He grinned. "But still no demons?"

"_No_," she said emphatically. "Isn't a _person_ that kills people enough to worry about?"

He laughed. "Touché."

**Cops and Robbers**

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Castle."

"The safety was on!"

Kate snorted. After dinner had ended and she and Rick found themselves alone on the couch, she couldn't help but continue the conversation about how often they'd saved each other's lives. Truthfully, she didn't really know which of them was in the lead, nor did she really care, but she was really enjoying the trip down memory lane. Not that she would admit it, of course.

"So? Would you really have chased an armed murderer into an alley without me there? If you say yes, you're lying," she said, cutting him off as he opened his mouth to respond.

"If you use that logic, you save my life every day!" he exclaimed indignantly.

"Exactly!" she laughed. "That's the nature of the beast when I'm a trained cop and you _aren't._"

"But see, I'd never get myself into these situations otherwise. You, on the other hand, would," he said with a smirk. "And if you'd done these things without _me_, you'd be dead." He gave himself a high five.

"You are perfectly capable of getting yourself into trouble _without_ me, Castle. You're just lucky I'm here to get you out."

"This is true," he conceded, "but I'm still winning."

"Now allow me to blow holes in your theories."

"This is gonna be good."

"The champagne bottle."

"Whoa, you can't refute that one! You admitted it right after it happened!"

"You saved my life when you pushed me out of the way, yes. But do you realize that jumping out in front of a gun is a bad idea unless _you_ have someone with a gun too? Your champagne trick would've gotten you killed had _I_ not been there." She grinned. "I won't take my own point for that, but I _will_ take away one of yours. Oh, and some of mine deserve extra."

"In what universe?"

"I dressed up as a Russian prostitute, thank you very much!"

"No, thank _you_," he said with a leer.

She made a face at him. "I killed Dick Coonan for you."

"Hal Lockwood," he said simply. He held up two fingers. "Twice. And Scott Dunn. Twice. Oh, and those weird circus nightclub tattoo artists! Twice!"

"Hop off your high horse for a second, there, knight in shining armor. One of those tattoo artist saves was in tandem, in case you forgot. And I shielded you from an explosion when Lockwood escaped from the courtroom. And of _course_ you'd save me from Dunn more than once. He was _hunting me_. It's not my fault a psychopath hasn't set you in his sights."

"Well, when that day comes, I'll be sure to let you know. You can make up the difference then."

"How generous of you," she said sarcastically. "I'm pretty sure I saved your life about ten times just _today._ How many times did Trapper John threaten me with killing you? And god only knows what else happened in there that I don't know about."

The weight of that statement suddenly hit Kate like a ton of bricks. She hadn't even really thought about it until she opened her mouth and it fell out. She'd been aware all day that terrible things could be happening to the hostages, but the sheer relief of seeing her partner alive and well after an _explosion _of all things chased everything else from her mind. But now she realized that he'd just lived through a truly traumatizing experience, and she'd just joked about it. _Idiot._

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

He waved her off. "Don't worry about it."

"No, it wasn't right of me to say that. At least not so soon after it happened."

He smiled. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I appreciated the levity more. It's better than brooding about it, right? And besides, I never really thought I was going to die today."

"What? Why?"

He shrugged. "I knew you'd get me out."

She tried desperately to ignore the warmth that flickered in her stomach at his words. "You couldn't know that. _I_ didn't know that."

"Okay, but I knew you'd get me out or die trying. And that's pretty damn comforting," he said, smiling softly.

God, she hoped her feelings weren't showing all over her face. "I wasn't doing anything you wouldn't have done for me had I been the one in there."

He grinned. "Ain't that the truth."

She smiled. "Seriously though, are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, "I'm alright. I'm surprisingly resilient."

She snorted. "Okay. But if you weren't, you'd tell me, right?"

"Of course."

"Really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "So I don't have to worry that you're secretly traumatized and not telling me?"

His face lit up. "You worry about me?"

She groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Oh my god, you're so annoying."

He laughed. "No, I'm not traumatized. And if I was, I'm now too happy that you worry about me to be traumatized."

"Oh my god," she said through a laugh, standing up. "I'm leaving."

"No, stay!" he whined, getting up and following her. "I'll behave!"

She chuckled as she slipped into her jacket. "First of all, no you won't. And second, I really do have to go. It's late."

He sighed dramatically. "Okay."

She laughed and, before she could think about it too much, stepped forward and wrapped him in a hug. "I'm glad you're okay," she whispered in his ear.

She felt him smile. "I won't tell anyone," he whispered back.

Laughing, she stepped away from him and opened the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He grinned. "Yes, thanks to you."

She shot a saucy look over her shoulder. "And don't you forget it."

As the door closed behind her, she realized she knew he wouldn't.

**Heartbreak Hotel**

Kate looked up and chuckled in amusement as Rick flopped into the chair next to her desk. It had been a day since he and the boys had returned from Atlantic City, yet he still looked a bit pale and drawn and rather tired.

"You guys enjoyed yourselves, I take it?"

He smiled in remembrance. "That would be an understatement."

She smirked and turned back to her work. "Harkening back to your days of drunken debauchery?"

He huffed. "Don't mock me, Beckett."

"I'm not mocking," she said innocently, "It was a legitimate question."

"Yeah, yeah," he yawned.

She raised her eyebrows at him and pushed her barely touched cup of coffee towards him. "Here. Before you're comatose on my desk."

He took a grateful sip and immediately seemed to revive a little bit. "So I never got to ask – how was your alone time with Gates?"

Kate chewed the inside of her cheek in thought and looked over at her boss's office. "Honestly, it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be."

"Well that's good, right?"

"Yeah," she said distantly.

Rick nudged her with his foot. "Earth to Beckett. What's up?"

"Just thinking. I think Gates and I are more alike than I thought."

He paused, and cocked his head. "I can see that. She kind of reminds me of the you I met. Just far more dangerous because she can actually have me thrown out of here."

"Mmm," she hummed in agreement. "Was I really that much of a hard-ass? Don't answer that," she said, cutting Rick off before he could reply.

He grinned. "So you two talked a little?"

She nodded. "I think she understands why I'm not a huge fan of hers. And she does what she does to push us to be better, not just to be a bitch."

"And by 'us,' you mean…"

She smiled sheepishly. "Those of us with badges. Sorry."

He pouted a little bit. "I just can't do anything right with her."

"I think she'll come around eventually."

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "_You_ think so? You? Really?"

"Like I said, she just wants us to be good. Once she realizes that you're not just screwing around and that you're not going away, I think she'll soften a little. And I might've put in a good word for you."

His face lit up. "Really?"

"What, I can save your life and it's regular, but I say something nice about you and you light up like a Christmas tree?"

He laughed. "Sorry, I'm a writer. I kind of have a thing for words."

"True," she conceded with a chuckle. "But the point is that now that she realizes I can function perfectly well without you here, I think she'll be… well, maybe not on board, but as close as she's gonna get."

"Well," he said happily, sitting back in his chair, "I'm glad to have you on my side."

* * *

A/N: I finished the story for Heartbreak Hotel an hour or so Kill Shot aired, in which Gates actually went to Castle for information. I think I'm a little bit prophetic, no? ;)

With the holiday hiatus coming up, I won't be posting again for awhile, and when I do it'll be from London. Weeeee! I'm studying abroad next semester and I cannot wait! But this means I'll have to figure out some way of getting Castle when I'm over there. Anyone have any website suggestions?

This December will mark the TWO YEAR (holy crap) anniversary of Move You. I want to thank you all for accompanying me on this ride and being the best readers ever! Infinite love to you all!


	20. Episodes 4x09, 10, 11, 12

A/N: Hello from London! Thank you to those of you who heeded my call about websites on which to watch Castle internationally - I am now a proud participant in Castle Tuesday and, let me tell you, waking up to a brand spanking new episode of Castle is quite fantastic! It also means a second straight year of new Castle on my birthday. :D I hope the hiatus treated you all well!

* * *

**Kill Shot**

Rick watched the elevator doors close and felt the hard edges of the fancy art book dig into his palms. Was he really letting Beckett go do this without him?

…Yep. Yeah, he was.

And he _hated_ it.

His brain slowly ground into action and he remembered that there was an active murder investigation going on. A very, very active murder investigation. And that he'd stayed behind to help – well, among other reasons. From some distant corner of his brain that wasn't consumed by anxiety, his conscience called to him. _Go help try and stop a sniper. Prevent what happened to her from happening to someone else._

As he stood in front of the smart board, he dimly registered how strange it was to have Gates asking him for information and actually listening to his ideas when he offered them. Under other circumstances he may have taken the opportunity to gloat a bit, either to himself or to Beckett. But right now, innocent lives were at stake and Beckett was out there risking hers for them. No room to care about gloating. He attempted to box up his feelings and throw himself into work.

It worked to a point, until the actual police work kicked in. Gates and Ryan ran off and left him standing there with nothing to do but worry. So he hurried after Ryan and dropped into the seat next to his desk, cracking his knuckles anxiously and feeling the slick of perspiration between his fingers.

The bus driver wasn't picking up. Ryan smacked redial and tried again. Nothing. And again. And again. And again. Finally, he dispatched a squad car in the area to pull it over and threw the phone at the cradle in frustration.

They spent the next twenty minutes in a tense silence. Ryan tried calling the bus driver several more times, growing increasingly agitated as he continued to get sent to voicemail. Finally, though, Ryan's cell phone chimed. Rick felt like his heart was beating in his throat as Ryan took the call.

"It's Espo," he said to Rick, the deep lines in his forehead loosening, "They got him. Everything's fine."

Rick nearly passed out in relief and took a few deep breaths to slow his heart rate back down as Ryan spoke to Esposito for a bit longer.

"You okay, Castle?" Ryan asked as he hung up. "You're a little pale."

"This whole giving-her-space thing? It's not really agreeing with me."

Ryan chuckled. "She's a big girl."

"I know that," Rick said with a groan. "But… okay. How would you feel if it was Jenny? Pretty helpless and miserable, right?"

Ryan observed him for a moment, clearly reading between the lines. "Wow. Those are some big words."

Rick shrugged. "But you get it, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so. So should I not tell you that Esposito just saved her life, or…?"

"What?" Rick yelped.

"Calm down," Ryan said, a tad alarmed. "She's fine, everyone's fine."

"But—" he swallowed weakly. "What happened?"

"Apparently she found the sniper and was on the wrong end of his gun. Esposito was watching from the building across the street, and…" he mimed taking a shot. Rick was silent, and Ryan began speaking again hastily. "But see, this is good. Other people can take care of her too."

Rick sighed jaggedly. "I know. But it's not about protecting her – I _know_ other people can do that, I don't need to be the one to take out a shooter. I'm not _that _egotistical. But I just… I want to _be there_ for her, ya know? I mean, she's asking for all this space, and I get it, but it sucks!"

Ryan smiled sympathetically. "Nobody said this stuff was easy, man."

Rick chuckled. "Thanks, Dr. Ryan. Should I add this session to my tab?"

"I'll take cash up front," Ryan said with a laugh. "Seriously though, I'm sure it'll pay off. She's not an idiot. I'm sure she's noticed."

Rick drummed his fingers restlessly on the desk. "I hope so. I don't want to have to continue to suffer in silence."

"What silence?" Ryan asked dryly, looking pointedly at Rick's tapping fingers.

The writer chuckled awkwardly. "I'll go make noise on _her_ desk, shall I?"

"You want to wait for her to get back anyway," Ryan pointed out astutely.

"This is true," Rick said, getting to his feet. "Thanks again."

"No problem. Hey Castle!" Ryan called to Rick's retreating back. "I was serious about the cash!"

**Cuffed**

As the hatch in the ceiling swung shut and was locked with a bang, Kate looked up from the mattress on the floor and felt a cold sense of dread settle over her. And for the first time all night, the warm hand in hers did absolutely nothing to alleviate it. She cursed under her breath and flopped back down onto her back. Rick remained sitting up, and looked at her dejectedly.

"We were _so_ close," he said with a sigh.

She draped her free arm over her face, hiding her eyes in her elbow, and fought against a growl. "And now we're screwed."

"No, no, not _screwed_," he said placidly and looking like he was trying to convince himself of his own statement.

She shifted her arm down to her nose so she could glare at him. "So you're telling me that having our only way out of this room locked is _not_ a crippling problem?"

"Oh, no, it is," he said, fiddling absentmindedly with the handcuff around his wrist, "It definitely is."

She huffed in frustration. "Okay, so, what are you saying?"

"What I'm saying is that you're never screwed until you're… well, screwed."

"Did you hit your head when we fell?"

He made a face at her. "There's always something you can be doing, some means of escape to attempt. Until you're dead." He smiled at the mildly impressed look on her face. "Hey, I've had extensive experience as a hostage."

"Mmm," she agreed dryly. "I wish you were kidding."

He chuckled. "That makes two of us."

With a sigh, Kate sat up and stretched out a leg, using her foot to hook her boots, lying haphazardly on the floor, and shuffle them closer to her. Rick offered up their joined hands; she let go of him with a smile, albeit a small one, and began putting on her boots.

"So," she said once she was no longer in her sock feet, "What do you propose we do now?"

His mouth fell open and he placed his right hand over his heart. "What's this? Are you letting me lead? Voluntarily?"

She shrugged, and pulled her knees to her chest in a one-armed hug. "I've never been a hostage before," she said, resting her chin on her knees.

He grinned, his eyes darkening. "Ah, a kidnapping virgin. Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

She sputtered for a moment, feeling her cheeks grow hot. "Okay," she finally decided, "You win. See? I'm letting you lead _and_ win. Aren't you proud of my progress?"

He pumped his fist in the air in victory. "Okay, there's no way we're dying in here."

"Why's that?"

"Because I need to brag about this moment in the future."

She rolled her eyes and thrust their joined hands in his direction, a silent command to just _go_ already. He took the hint and stood, leading her over to the freezer.

"What's the plan?" she asked as he heaved it open and selected a knife.

He shrugged. "No idea."

"So what're you doing?"

"Hoping something'll come to me."

She sighed. "This goes against my entire process."

"I know." He placed their joined hands on the freezer and jabbed the knife at the chain between them.

"How are you so optimistic?" she asked, cocking her head as she watched him work.

"Because," he said, grimacing as the knife slipped and hit the freezer with a metallic 'ping,' "I've always had to do this alone." He looked up at her and smiled. "This is nice. Well," he amended, "comparatively, of course."

She swallowed hard as he turned his attention back to the cuffs. Leave it to him to make her feel all fluttery when they could both be murdered at any moment.

"Well then," she said softly. "I'm glad I could be your silver lining, I guess."

He paused and looked up at her again. She smiled at the mild surprise on his face, and he grinned.

"Finally," he said, "you're of some use to me."

**Till Death Do Us Part**

As Kate sat at the table, she observed her partner from across the dance floor as she twirled her empty wine glass idly between the pads of her fingers. He was hamming it up for some of Ryan's young nieces and nephews, and she couldn't help the smile that ghosted across her face. That man.

_Her plus one._ Wow. Now how exactly had they gotten there?

"Enjoying the party?"

Kate looked up to see Jenny's mother Erin sliding into the seat next to her, and smiled. "Yes, very much. It's absolutely lovely."

"Where's your date?"

She flushed at the word but didn't correct her; that's what they were, after all, wasn't it? The thought sent a little thrill through her, and it was with an odd feeling of pride that she pointed at him, surrounded by his gaggle of little fans. "Right there."

"Ah," the older woman said with a smile. "He's quite the charmer."

Kate chuckled. "If you only knew," she muttered, half to herself.

"Are you two together?"

"I—" she began, but stopped as she realized she didn't quite know how to answer that question. Her longtime knee-jerk reaction of 'no' had evaporated months previously. She let out a small sigh. "No. Not— no."

Erin raised a playful eyebrow. "Was that a 'not yet' I almost heard?"

Kate swallowed hard. "See, the thing is— Castle and I, we have a— it's complicated," she finished meekly.

"Uh huh," Erin said slowly.

Kate suddenly felt the need to explain herself. "We have some issues we need to deal with."

"If it's not too presumptuous of me to offer you advice without being asked for it," she smiled as she stood up, "_deal with them._ I've seen the way you look at him. I'm sure he has too." She patted Kate on the shoulder as she took her leave.

Mouth still hanging slightly open in shock, her gaze followed Erin as she found her daughter and swooped her into a hug. Was she really _that_ obvious?

"May I have this dance?"

She started and turned to see Rick standing in front of her, hand extended.

It was a slow dance. She swallowed hard. "I can't really dance."

He shrugged. "Neither can I. I'm sure you can handle my two-step."

She chuckled and decided to throw caution to the wind. "Okay. What the hell."

He grinned as she took his hand, and led her out onto the dance floor. She took a deep breath as his hands settled on her waist and hers on his shoulders. This was okay. She could do this. Her eyes fell on Erin and Jenny over Rick's shoulder, and she chewed the inside of her cheek.

Rick glanced behind him to see what she was looking at. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"You're watching the bride and her mother. I thought maybe…"

"Oh." _Oh_. She smiled. "No, it's not that. I've been to enough weddings in the last 13 years where I no longer feel the need to mope at the party. I can do that at home," she half joked.

He didn't look amused. "If you're really going to mope at home you need to let me know so I can show up unannounced with a thoughtful gift."

She laughed. "Okay, only because I know you'll keep asking me until I tell you… the first wedding I went to after the fact, I had to leave halfway through the party because I was such a mess. And I promise, it's only gotten better from there. It…" she sighed, "It really sucks, ya know? And today…"

"Today what?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Today's January 9th," she said. "I'm usually sitting in the cemetery right about now."

She felt his reaction before she could see it: his hands tensed on her hips and his eyes widened. "Oh my god, I—"

"But I'm okay," she said gently, cutting him off. "I'm happier for Ryan and Jenny than I am sad for myself."

"Well, I'm glad," he said with a hesitant smile. "But I might still show up unannounced."

"You've just announced it, though, so I don't really think it'll still count as unannounced."

"Touche."

She smiled, and they swayed to the music in silence for a few moments.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked finally.

"Sure."

"Why did your marriages fail?"

"Whoa," he said with a chuckle, "Going straight for the jugular."

She blushed a little, and shrugged.

He paused in thought for a moment. "Because I wasn't getting married for the right reason."

"Why not?"

"Well, with Meredith, we were young and stupid. And I know that's not _really_ a legitimate excuse, but I'd just broken up with Kyra recently, and all of a sudden we were pregnant… We thought it'd be a good idea to get married for the baby. Meredith was never the maternal sort, so most of the parenting fell to me. If I was concentrating on Alexis, that meant I wasn't concentrating on Meredith, and… well, I mean, you've met her, you've seen what she's like."

Kate nodded. "Perpetual need to be the center of attention."

"Bingo. She wasn't the center of my world anymore, if she ever really was, so she went and screwed the director of the movie she was working on. End of marriage one."

She wrinkled her nose. "That sucks. I'm sorry."

"Thanks," he said genuinely, "But I'm not. If it hadn't happened then, I'd be married and miserable right now. So it's really okay."

She chuckled, silently agreeing with him. "And Gina?"

He sighed. "We were good together for awhile. We worked well on paper, and we loved each other well enough, and I wanted Alexis to have a mom. But we fought _all _the time. We weren't right for each other, or for that marriage, and I do take partial responsibility for that."

She nodded thoughtfully, mildly impressed at his maturity. "But you want to get married again?"

"In a perfect world? Yes. But it might be awhile, because I do _not_ want to get divorced again."

She laughed. "I don't think you will. You sound ready for it this time."

He smiled. "And what about you? You want to get married, right? One-and-done?"

She raised her eyebrows. "You remember that conversation? That was ages ago."

"First of all, it appears that you remember it too," – (she blushed) – "And second, I'm a writer. I deal in words."

She shook her head in amusement. "I _would _like to get married. But if the man I want to spend the rest of my life with doesn't want to, that's okay. I'm not attached to the idea of a wedding, or the institution."

"Just forever?" he asked, a sparkle in his eye.

"What, that's not enough?" she shot back good-naturedly.

"No, no, not at all," he said in surrender, smiling widely. "Forever sounds good."

She suddenly felt like she'd been punched in the stomach and struggled to keep breathing normally. Did he do that on purpose? Did he know he was torturing her? _Ugh_, that man.

"Okay," she said, playing it off and switching topics at the same time, "Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure. Can't be worse than the last question, can it?"

She smiled slightly. "In Heat Rises, when Nikki thinks Rook was sleeping with other women on his trip and they're talking about the Hundred Mile Rule… Rook says that his Mile Zero starts…" she slid a hand down from his shoulder to rest on his heart, "here." She felt his pulse beating wildly beneath her fingers and looked up to meet his gaze. "Is that you?"

His hands shifted slightly on her waist. "Yeah it is," he said quietly. "Why?"

She smiled and replaced her hand on his shoulder. "Because it's just about the most you-sounding line of dialogue you've ever written." When he looks as if he wants to smile but isn't sure if she meant that in a positive way, she smirks and tugs lightly on his tie. "Relax, Castle, it's a compliment."

He unleashed his grin, visibly relieved. "Than thank you."

"Why are you insecure about stuff like that?" she asked impulsively. "Because these things are actually far more attractive than hero worshipping a man with a laundry list of hundreds of women he's slept with."

He shrugged. "Image?"

She huffed. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

"I'll let you know when I figure that out." She chuckled, and he grinned. "Besides, a far more salient point is that you just told me you find something about me to be attractive."

Her eyes narrowed. "And I swear to god, if even a hint of this conversation ends up on Twitter…"

"Oh, don't worry," he said dismissively. "I won't tweet a word of it."

"Why does that not make me feel any better?"

"Because I'm a writer and I enjoy making up stories."

"You're going to say something that didn't happen but would've been horribly embarrassing for me, aren't you?"

"Yep."

She sighed. "Awesome."

**Dial M For Mayor**

"I'm really sorry about yesterday."

Kate glanced away from the road for a moment to look at Rick in the passenger seat. They were on their way to pick up Jordan Norris, and she had assumed they'd already cleared the air about their argument the day before.

He smiled sheepishly and looked down at his hands. "We've been down this road before, and you gave me no reason to doubt you then. And I didn't. Don't."

She smiled. "I know."

She heard him let out a breath. "Good. It's just… I get…"

"You're loyal," she broke in. "It's not that you think I'm going to do the wrong thing, you just want to protect people you care about."

"Yes," he agreed. "There's definitely that. But that's no excuse to take it out on you. And I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," she said, unable to stop her smile.

"And I also… I got selfish."

She eased the Crown Vic to a stop at a red light and turned to look at him questioningly.

Rick continued. "If Weldon got booted from office, obviously it'd be ruining his career, but it'd also be ruining…"

He hesitantly met her eye, and it was as if someone had taken a heat lamp to the wax figure of her heart; she was so doomed. The light in front of her turned green, and she pulled out quickly, before the guy behind her let into his horn.

"I know," she said quietly. "Believe me, it crossed my mind. And I don't want you to think that it didn't matter to me." She was suddenly very glad that she wasn't looking at him, because she could picture exactly the look on his face and the way his eyes twinkled as he looked at her. No, she kept her gaze firmly on the road in front of her. "But I don't have the luxury of being selfish, ya know? I can't be to Laura's sister what Raglan was to me. That's not fair."

She chanced a glance at Rick, and her suspicions were confirmed: so, _so_doomed. She cleared her throat. "So, uh, yeah. I'm sorry I _can't_ be selfish. Or let you be selfish."

He chuckled. "Apology unnecessary, but accepted."

She smiled, and they drove on in silence.

* * *

A/N: Time zones make things funky now, so as I'm posting this it's the morning in America while it's late afternoon here. Is the morning prime fanfic-reading time? Lol, who knows? But I DO know that reviews are very much loved and appreciated!


	21. Episodes 4x13, 14, 15, 16

A/N: For once, I have almost nothing to say. So I'm going to shut up and let you get reading! :)

* * *

**An Embarrassment of Bitches**

Rick arrived at the precinct earlier than usual the next morning, carrying the usual two coffees; he's originally wanted to bring in a bone for Royal as well, but figured he probably wouldn't earn any points with Gates if she saw him slobbering all over the precinct floor. Well, more than he already was. He was mildly shocked that she'd even allowed him to stay at all, but hey, Rick certainly wasn't complaining. Royal wouldn't know the difference. He'd just give the dog an extra scratch or two.

They arrived fifteen or so minutes after he did, Royal straining at his leash right out of the elevator and Kate stumbling after him with a laugh, her hair loose and wildly curly and swinging around her shoulders. She let go of his leash and he bounded straight at Detective Eggerstrom and eagerly sniffed at his shoes. She rolled her eyes in amusement, and Rick couldn't help but grin: how many times had he been on the receiving end of one of those?

"Did you two have a pleasant evening?" he asked as she dropped her bag on her desk and scooped her hair back, deftly tying it into a bun.

God, why did he think that was hot?

"We sure did," she said, slipping out of her coat, "but someone wasn't a big fan of my blow drier this morning."

"Ahh, hence the…" he gestured to her hair.

"Frizz? Yep," she said on a sigh, looking pensively at a curl that had sprung loose and fallen in her line of sight before tucking it back behind her ear. "But a reprieve from the heat damage is probably a good thing." She smiled as Royal ambled over. "So I should probably be thanking you, huh?" she asked the dog.

Royal snuffed in response and lay down, rolling onto his side. Rick slid onto the floor to scratch his belly. Kate couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up as Royal whined happily and began kicking one of his back legs in the air.

"So what did you crazy kids get up to last night?" Rick asked.

"Just a quiet night in," she answered, leaning back in her chair. "Some fetch, some tug of war… oh, and you were absolutely right." Rick looked up, and she continued. "He's a complete snuggler."

His hands stilled on Royal's belly. "Oh. My. God."

Her brow furrowed. "What?"

"You let him on your couch, didn't you?"

She shrugged helplessly. "What can I say? He actually _has _puppy dog eyes."

"Oh. My. God," he said again, ignoring Royal as the dog nudged impatiently at him, wanting to be pet some more. "Katherine Beckett is a softy."

Her mouth fell open indignantly. "I am not!"

"You so are!" he exclaimed, punctuating his sentence by pointing at her. "You let him shed on your couch, and you snuggled with him, and you didn't blow dry your hair because he was scared of the noise! You – are – a – softy!"

"Say it a little louder, I don't think the guys down in robbery heard you," she deadpanned.

Royal got to his feet and slouched away, giving up on getting more rubs. Rick laughed happily at his new discovery.

Kate rolled her eyes. "Get off the floor, Castle. People might get the wrong idea."

He looked down at his position – sitting back on one heel, his other foot flat on the floor in front of him. He was down on one knee. _Oh_. He scrambled to get back into his chair before things got awkward, but luckily she didn't seem to be dwelling on it.

"This is fantastic," he said as he sat down. "That dog turned you into a puddle of goo."

"I wouldn't go _that_ far," she said defensively. "It's not like he slept in my bed."

"No?" he asked, his demeanor changing slightly as it always did when conversation went to places like this.

"No," she said with a smirk, "I'm not _that_ easy."

He held up his hands innocently. "I would never suggest such a thing." She laughed, which made him smile. "Coffee?"

"Yes. But," she said quickly, wrinkling her nose, "I'll make it. Your hands are full of dog."

He chuckled. "Fair enough."

"And besides, don't I owe you about a hundred?"

He felt his face go slack as he stared at her in shock. "I—uhh—"

She smiled indulgently. "I'm good for my debt. Go wash your hands."

"You're full of surprises today," he said before his brain could kick in and tell him not to.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Can't have you sticking around just for the murders, can I?" She stood up and headed to the break room, throwing a smile over her shoulder at him.

Huh. Surprises indeed.

**The Blue Butterfly**

"I told you," Rick said as he slid into the passenger seat of the Crown Vic.

"Told me what?" Kate asked, buckling her seatbelt.

"That you're a huge softy."

She half laughed, half groaned as the car rumbled to life. "You're still on that, are you?"

"Um, duh. And you're not denying it."

Shaking her head in exasperation, she pulled out into traffic. "You know I like a good love story, Castle. This is not new information."

"Maybe not, but you got just as into it as I did!"

"Again, this surprises you? I like stories. I read. It's kind of a thing."

He chuckled. "That's true. But I once knew a Beckett that would've arrested Joe and Vera no matter how much she liked their story."

That gave Kate a moment's pause. "Ya know what? You're right." He pumped his fist in the air in victory. "Although, if you think about it…"

"No!" he cried. "No thinking!"

"…Even if I _had_ arrested them, there are no witnesses or evidence to say who killed who. So nothing would've happened to them."

"Oh, _whatever_," Rick groaned.

"I was really just saving a lot of people a lot of time and effort."

"Buuuut," he sing-songed, "the salient point is that you didn't arrest them because you're a softy."

"This does _not_ make me a softy."

"Does too."

"Castle, cops aren't allowed to be softies."

"Okay, so what was that, than?"

"_That_…" she paused, thinking for a second. "That was me having a brain and a heart that are working together."

He fell still and silent for a moment, before frantically digging in his pockets for his notepad. "Oh my god, I gotta write that down!"

She groaned. "Castle!"

"What?" he asked, scribbling furiously. "Beckett, come on, that was poetry! And I also…" he faltered briefly, but plowed ahead, still looking firmly at his pad, "I like what it means."

She smiled. So did she.

**Pandora**

"I really can't deal with him sometimes, Lanie."

Lanie sighed and held her phone between her cheek and shoulder as she removed her plastic gloves with a snap. "You _do_ know that I'm not this kind of doctor, right? Don't you have a therapist for this kind of thing?"

"What, to be my friend?"

"Touché. You were saying?"

"He's _impossible_."

"You interrupt my work day to tell me something I already know?"

Kate nearly growled. "I understand that he has a past. I have one too. _I get it_. But really, I'd love to meet one woman, just _one_ woman, that he knows and _hasn't_ slept with."

"You," Lanie pointed out.

"I – yes, well," Kate said, a little taken aback, "I mean _otherwise_. Every time we come across an attractive woman I have to wonder if he knows her, because let's be honest, he knows _everybody_, and at what point in his life he's slept with her. It's _infuriating_."

"Someone sounds jealous," Lanie sing-songed.

"Lanie, I am not jealous, I'm just annoyed. I mean there's his publisher, his agent, and Kyra, and now it's Sophia, and then there was Ellie Monroe…"

"He's a man, sweetie. It's what they do."

"But never like this!"

"He's a _famous_ man. I think expectations need to be tweaked a little bit."

Kate sighed. "It doesn't help that Sophia is _completely _unlikeable."

"How so?"

"What, other than the fact that every time I see her I've just been kidnapped? She does this… this _thing_, where she's talking to me but looking at him. And talk about bedroom eyes! And voice, for that matter. So of course he's going to jump at whatever she says, and he's my _partner_, so when he agrees with her he's agreeing for me as well and roping me into doing favors for this chick that I am _not_ inclined to do."

Lanie hummed in thought, and Kate plowed on. "And ya know, last Valentine's Day I got to meet his old boarding school mentor who turned out to be a murderer, and _this_ Valentine's Day I got to meet his former muse, and now I'm worried about next year might bring."

"A marriage proposal?" Lanie muttered quietly.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said innocently. "I'm sure next year will be just fine. I think you're overreacting and overanalyzing and over… lots of other stuff. Try and cut him some slack, will you?"

Kate sighed. "Fine. Thanks for listening, Lane."

"Anytime."

Lanie hung up and looked up to see Alexis walk into the room. "Watch out, girl," she told the redhead, holding up her phone as if it were toxic. "Domestic dispute."

Alexis rolled her eyes, half in amusement, half in exasperation. "Noted. Thanks."

**Linchpin**

"Can I ask you a question?" Kate asked.

She was sitting facing Rick in a four-person booth at The Old Haunt, their feet propped up on opposite benches.

"Sure," he said, idly playing with his empty glass.

"What actually happened between you and Sophia? Because she did tell me, but she was lying about everything else, so…"

He cocked his head. "Wait, she talked to you about me?"

"Mhm."

"What'd she say happened?"

Kate smiled wryly. "She said you two slept together because you just couldn't stand the _longing_ anymore, and that once that _longing_ was gone, all you two had left were the things that drove you crazy about each other." She rolled her eyes. "There was a lot about longing."

He snorted. "Longing? What longing? We hadn't known each other for long enough before we slept together for there to be any longing." He noticed Kate's raised eyebrow and quickly clarified. "Hey, you saw what she was like. She can—" he stopped and swallowed, "well, _could_ be terrifying. I sure as hell wasn't complaining, but she took the initiative."

Kate nodded, contemplating. "How long were you two together?"

"I don't think we ever were, really. It was more of a friends with benefits kind of thing. Sophia didn't really do 'dating,' and I was still nursing my wounded commitment after my first marriage," he said with a chuckle.

She shook her head in disbelief. "So Sophia was just playing—"

_Playing into my fears._ Jesus, thank god she caught herself before she said that out loud.

"Playing?" he asked curiously.

"Uh, playing with my head," she lied hastily. "Sorry, lost my train of thought for a second."

"It's okay. Now, can I ask _you_ a question?"

She nudged his foot with her elbow. "Sure."

He took a breath as if he were readying himself for something, and she had a brief flash of worry before he began to speak. "Okay. Hypothetically, if you wanted to get into someone's apartment without them knowing, would you be able to?"

Her brow furrowed. "Huh?"

"Let's say there was… I don't know, an ex-boyfriend you wanted to snoop on. And you knew he was away for the weekend. If you wanted to get into his locked apartment in a way that would be undetectable to him when he came home, could you do it?"

"I wouldn't."

A slow smile broke out across his face. "I know. But could you?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." He leaned back against the booth.

She was perplexed. "I – that's what you wanted to know?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

He sighed. "Remember the other day, when I said Sophia had been at my place the night before?"

"Yeah."

"I came home to find her sitting on my bed."

Kate's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

He nodded. "Mhm. And she'd snooped through my—"

He broke off and looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Your…?" she prodded slightly.

"My stuff. My computer. My notes," he said. "It was really violating."

She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah. That's a huge invasion of privacy, to snoop when you hadn't even let her in."

"Tell me about it," he joked. "Glad my privacy is safe with you, though."

She chuckled, and poked him with her toe. "You know I only use my powers for good."

His smile softened. "Yes I do."

* * *

A/N: So I turned 21 the day after Linchpin aired (in America - Castle Tuesday was my birthday here in London!). And, why yes, I AM going to use this fact to guilt you all into reviewing. ;) But really though, I love you all for reading!


	22. Episodes 4x17, 18, 19

A/N: Who's got two thumbs and is leaving for a three-week backpacking trip across Europe tonight? THIS GUY! One of my friends is bringing her laptop so I should be able to see the next few episodes in a somewhat timely fashion, but I won't be able to write about them. Therefore, this update comes one episode early! And, holy crap, my next update will be the last of the season! Where has time gone?

* * *

**Once Upon A Crime**

She didn't hold onto his hand.

Rick wasn't surprised, really. They weren't quite at that point yet; right now, the more natural thing to do was a brief squeeze. He understood. She actually held on for longer than he ever thought she would – fifteen seconds (not that he was counting or anything. Absolutely not). He'd completely missed whatever was happening on the "stage," concentrating instead on the way his chest was tight and his stomach felt funny and _oh my god she's holding my hand_.

She only let go as Martha said something funny – nothing to damage his ego, actually, but something legitimately funny. She was still leaning forward, so he watched her shoulders shake in silent mirth as she hid her grin behind her hand. He briefly mourned the loss of contact, but that thought was quickly chased out of his mind by how badly he wished he could see the expression on her face.

His wish was granted several minutes later as she actually laughed out loud (okay, what god was smiling down on him today?) and turned to share a look with him. Her eyes were sparkling and her bottom lip was caught between her teeth and she just looked so _happy_, like there weren't dead bodies piling up around them every day, and _damn,_ if he could just make her look like this every day for the rest of his life it would be enough.

…Boy, was he a goner. So completely beyond help.

The show continued in this manner. Either she could feel him cringing next to her or she sensed his embarrassment, because every now and then he'd get a touch or a nudge. Honestly, he'd deal with his mother's show if it kept Kate touching him. Seriously. He'd sit through it every night. Willingly. _Happily_. He wished she wasn't so engrossed in it, though, because then she might lean back into the couch and be even closer.

No, scratch that. He loved that she was so interested in what his mother was doing. Most women he'd brought home just thought Martha was bizarrely eclectic at best, downright crazy at worst. But Kate genuinely seemed to like her, and there was no doubt in his mind that she wasn't faking it. When it came to personal things, things that mattered, she was a downright terrible liar, so the light in her eyes when she hugged his mother was for real.

When the show (mercifully) ended, Kate let out a whoop and clapped hard. He couldn't help grinning and joining in, albeit a little half-heartedly. It _had_ been slightly slanderous, after all. But finally, _finally_, she put her empty champagne glass down on the floor and leaned back against the cushions.

"Martha, that was really great," she said, eyes shining with… was that _pride_ he saw? Oh, he was so screwed.

Martha beamed. "Oh, thank you darling!"

Rick was startled by an elbow to the ribs. "Yes, mother, I'm very impressed. Of course, I'd be more impressed if it didn't damage my reputation…" she glared at him, and he smiled. "But even I'll admit that I enjoyed it. Well done."

"Alas, I think that's the best I'm going to get from you," she said. "So thank you." She sunk into a deep bow before hurrying over to talk to her two stagehands.

"Ya know," Kate muttered to him, leaning closer so as to not be overheard, "If I didn't already know what your relationship with her was like, I'd be very upset at your lack of support."

He chuckled. "Yes, when I can tell her I love her and know she will understand that something is terribly wrong, 'well done' is the equivalent of a standing ovation."

She threw her head back and laughed, and his heart stopped. "That was the most interesting tip-off to a hostage situation I've ever had. 'Yeah, hi, my son said he loves me so he must be in danger.'"

"Hey," he said with a laugh, "It saved my life! And the play definitely could've been worse." _Would've been worse if you hadn't been next to me._

She smirked. "If Nikki Heat can be naked on book covers, I think you can handle some slight untruths about your life."

"Beckett, Nikki Heat is not libelous. And besides, _slight_ untruths?"

"Yes. Just like Nikki Heat contains _slight_ untruths about me," she said patiently. She patted his thigh. "You'll be fine."

He pouted. "Promise?"

She bit her lip against a laugh and held out one of her pinky fingers. "Yes. Pinky promise."

"Wow, you must really be serious!"

She really did laugh this time, and shrugged. "Hey, I figured I'd speak your language." She waggled her finger in front of his face. "You gonna take it or no?"

He tried not to let his joy show too much as he hooked his pinky around hers. "Okay," he said slowly. "If you say I'm going to be fine, I'll believe you."

She smiled. "This can't do any more damage to your image than you already have. Remember, the police horse incident report is still in your file."

He snorted. "You're evil."

"Would you two like some wine?"

Rick looked over to the kitchen where his mother was standing with Marcus, Alexis amusedly sliding the glass that had been poured for her back across the counter.

"Wine would be lovely, thank you," Kate answered, getting to her feet. Rick stood as well, and she tugged him towards the kitchen by their joined fingers.

Huh. Promises.

**A Dance With Death**

"_I was on my way to becoming the first female Chief Justice."_

As they continued dismantling the murder board, Rick couldn't help but dwell on that sentence. It's not that it surprised him; no, Kate Beckett would've done great things whether or not she'd entered the NYPD, without a doubt. There was just something niggling at the back of his mind that he couldn't quite put his finger on until it smacked him in the face. Maybe it was the way she looked at him in that split second, but it brought him right back to that conversation they'd had over three years ago…

"I was right," he said suddenly, the magnetic clip he'd been holding falling to the floor with a clatter.

Kate paused. "Sorry?"

"You wanted to become a lawyer."

She raised an eyebrow so high it was almost comical. "Yes…"

He chuckled, still flabbergasted. "When I first started shadowing you, on that very first case, do you remember what I said to you?" She still looked confused, so he continued. "I was wondering why you're a cop, and I said that good looking, law-smart—"

"—women become lawyers, not cops," she finished with a slight smile. "Yeah, I remember that."

He cocked his head. "Wow, you do."

She rolled her eyes in amusement. "Yes. You'd known me for, what, a day or two and had already guessed my life history with incredible accuracy? That's not really a conversation one forgets. It almost made me wonder if I was fitting some weird stereotype."

He laughed. "What?"

"Oh, come on, you know," she said, picking up the eraser and beginning to wipe down the board. "On TV, every single law enforcement worker has some kind of mommy or daddy issue that changed the trajectory of their career, yada yada yada."

"How could you _possibly_ be a stereotype?"

"Hey, if I was that easy to get a handle on…"

He shook his head. "No. Guessing your past does _not_ mean I have a handle on you. I'm still trying to make that happen."

She replaced the eraser and turned to face him, smiling. "Well, give yourself _some_ credit. I mean, you _do_ know my coffee order."

**47 Seconds**

"Are you looking for Mr. Castle?"

As she slid onto a stool in front of the bar at the Old Haunt, Kate shot a smile at the bartender. Brian. He was the first of the Haunt's bartenders that she'd met, back when the place was a crime scene and Castle wasn't the owner. She'd flirted with him to gain his trust, and Castle had gotten all territorial. Needlessly, of course; it wasn't like she was interested in anyone but hi— ah, crap. It was no use pretending otherwise to herself anymore, now, was it?

"Not really," she answered on a sigh. "He said he was going home so I'm not really expecting to see him. It'd just… be a pleasant surprise if I did, I guess."

Brian's brow furrowed slightly. "Is everything okay with him?"

She sat up straighter. "Why? What do you mean?"

He cast a furtive glance around to make sure the other customers weren't listening in, and lowered his voice. "He came here last night. Got _real_ drunk."

Her stomach dropped. "He did?"

Brian nodded. "It was weird. Never seen him like that before, ya know? He's come in just for drinks before – you know, not to work or anything – but nothing like this. It's like he was trying to erase something huge from his mind."

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Maybe it was a product of being the daughter of a former alcoholic, but Kate really wasn't a fan of using alcohol to escape problems. Of course, she was guilty of doing it herself on occasion, but that was only for things like… well, snipers and PTSD. Crap. Whatever this was, it must be a really big deal to have Castle drowning himself in Scotch.

With a start, she realized Brian was still looking at her, expecting some kind of response. She shrugged half-heartedly. "I have no idea what's going on with him. Wish I did, though," she said with a sigh. "Can you just… make sure he doesn't get that drunk again? And call me if he tries?"

Brian smiled. "Sure thing. Now, can I get you something to drink?"

"Just a pint of whatever you've got on tap. Thanks."

As he moved away to fill her order, Kate allowed herself to feel increasingly uneasy. What the hell could have Castle so upset that he's coming to his bar alone and drinking his problems away rather than talking to her about it? Was it something with Alexis? The girl _had_ been rather upset by the fallout of the bombing, and understandably so… but no, Castle would always tell her when Alexis was having an issue. _Always. _So what could possibly have him this upset?

A terrible thought struck her – was it something _she_ had done? She quickly racked her memory of the last few days, barely murmuring Brian a thanks when he came and placed her drink in front of her, but she couldn't think of anything. Things had been going really well… until they weren't. Then there were all those pointed remarks that weren't funny or flirty, the serious face, the refusal to meet her eyes. Her stomach twisted at the thought, and she eyed her beer apprehensively. _Had_ this been her fault? All signs pointed to yes, didn't they? _But what had she done?_

Her stomach rolling now, she dug her phone out of her pocket and dialed Lanie's number.

"You rang?" Lanie snarked playfully as she answered.

"Are you free in the next couple of days?"

"I think I can clear a spot in my schedule," she joked.

"Good. We need a girls' night."

* * *

A/N: Enjoy the new episode tonight, Americans! I'll be watching it in a day or two, in Paris. Rough life, huh? Lol.

Penny for your thoughts?


	23. Episodes 4x20, 21, 22, 23

A/N: Well. So. Uh. That finale, huh? This installment tracks my thought process from "excuse me, what the hell do I write about when all they're giving me is angst?" to "OH MY GOD HOW DO I WRITE WHEN I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS?"**  
**

* * *

**The Limey**

She couldn't do it.

Kate lay on her back in the darkness of her bedroom and squinted up at the ceiling. It shouldn't have surprised her, but it had been so long since someone new had asked a question about her past that Hunt's probing caught her momentarily off guard. It had only been a split second, though, and then the lie slipped easily enough off her tongue.

"_I grew up in the city, and uh, went to college in California."_

Okay, so it's not a lie. She _did_ grow up in the city, and she _had_ gone to college in California. Until…

"_I guess it was just my calling_."

Again, not really a lie. But the truth, the _real_ truth, was nowhere near the image that sentence conjured up. It had nothing to do with fate or destiny or any of those pretty words. It came down to a shadowy figure with an agenda and Dick Coonan wielding a knife.

Kate chuckled humorlessly to herself. Yeah. That was her calling, all right.

She sighed and rolled over, catching a glimpse of her dress from that evening where it was hung on the back of her closet. She loved that dress, but she couldn't help her lip from curling in distaste. Truly, she hated using her looks and _"feminine wiles" _to help solve cases. She liked the results, sure; getting that final piece of necessary evidence, cuffing a suspect, or what have you. But it just made her feel… dirty. Gross. Okay, yes, she'd had her phase in high school when she was a bit _freer_ with her flirting and… everything else, but grown-up Kate thinks these kinds of things should be saved for someone who deserves them, for…

For someone who no longer seems interested. Well, crap.

But no, that's wrong. Right? Kate did her best to swallow her bias and look at things objectively. When she walked into the precinct wearing her dress, he most certainly hadn't _looked_ uninterested. He'd looked at her like he had every other time she'd put more than the usual amount of effort into her appearance, and when she realized that most of these times had involved going undercover with _him_ her composure had nearly slipped. Hunt was nice, and very attractive, and of a similar mindset, and the accent certainly didn't hurt, but…

She sighed and pressed her face into her pillow. But.

Damn, she really needed to fall asleep. Going to work strung out on insomnia wouldn't be a good idea, especially not with things with Castle being the way they were. She hadn't had this much trouble falling asleep in ages. What did she used to do when she couldn't fall asleep? She pondered for a moment, and then it hit her. She'd text Castle. She'd text Castle, and he'd distract her, and she'd fall asleep, no problem.

That plan was shot to hell, now, wasn't it? She tilted her head off her pillow enough to glare at her phone on her nightstand with one eye. She could still text him. Even if he didn't want to talk to her, maybe it'd make him feel bad about pulling away. Remind him that she might need him a little bit.

As soon as she finished thinking it, she hated herself for it. What the hell was she, a child? She could fall asleep on her own, thank you very much. She flipped over, smoothed her comforter over her stomach, and blew her hair off her forehead.

It was going to be a long night.

**Headhunters**

Lanie didn't even look up from her desk as the door to the morgue swung open and Lauren burst in.

"Your friends are insane," Lauren said without preamble, coming to a halt in front of the desk.

Lanie nodded, signing the form she was filling out as she spoke. "Yes, they are." She finally looked up. "Do I even want to know?"

Lauren quirked an eyebrow. "Castle decided it was a good idea to shadow Slaughter for awhile."

"He _what_?" Lanie shot out of her chair. "Tell me this is your idea of a hilarious belated April Fools joke."

"No joke," Lauren said grimly. "Nor is it hilarious. Castle's going to get himself killed."

"More importantly, he's breaking Beckett's heart," Lanie said mildly hysterically, yanking her phone from her pocket and speed-dialing the cop in question. "I refuse to let her go through this," she said as she held her phone to her ear. And if she isn't going to help herself, I'm – Kate Beckett!" she exclaimed into her phone. "What is this I hear about Castle shadowing _Slaughter?_"

Kate sighed. "That's pretty much the whole of it."

"Are you going to tell me _why_?"

"I'm prepping for a trial."

"That's bull, and you know it."

"Wha – I –" Kate spluttered, "I actually _am_ prepping for a trial, Lanie."

"Yes, but you've done that before, and he's never run off with another cop! Let alone one who's going to get him killed!"

Kate groaned. "Look, I don't know what to tell you. I don't understand it any better than you do. But he's a grown man and he can make his own decisions. If he's bored, he can go play with Slaughter if he wants to."

"And you're okay with this?" Lanie asked disbelievingly.

"It doesn't matter if I'm okay with it."

"That's not what I'm asking."

Silence.

"Just think about it," Lanie said. "Something's gotta give, sweetie."

"Yeah, yeah," Kate grumbled.

"Girl, swallow your pride. I'm begging you. Four years."

Kate sighed. "I know, I know. I'll try not to let him die."

"Is that the best I'm gonna get out of you?"

"Yes."

It was Lanie's turn to sigh. "You're far too stubborn for your own good."

"What can I say?" Kate said wryly. "It's a gift."

"Curse," Lanie corrected as she hung up. "It's a curse."

**Undead Again**

Rick was silent and lost in his thoughts on the drive from the hospital back to the precinct. The thought that Kyle Jennings had been drugged and used to commit a murder disturbed him more than he'd care to admit. While he had come across a handful of killers that he'd felt bad for – ones that acted in self defense, or out of some twisted form of a usually harmless emotion – the fact that Kyle had no motive, no relation to the victim, and no recollection of the crime, yet would still have to live with the guilt (and potential punishment) of murdering a man… it made Rick feel like he'd been socked in the gut. In fact, only one other case had felt like this—

"Do you remember the guy who actually did have amnesia?" Kate asked suddenly. "Jeremy, I think his name was?"

Rick chuckled. "I was just thinking the same thing."

She smiled a bit sadly. "So which sucks worse?"

He sighed. "I hadn't come to a conclusion yet. Jeremy didn't actually commit the murder…"

"But he couldn't remember anything about his life," she finished.

"Exactly. And his ex-wife seemed more than happy to help him through it. That's gotta count for something, right? And Kyle here was… used. Horribly. He had no more choice in his fate than a gun or a knife does."

At this, Kate cracked a smile. "All those friendly little knives that don't want to commit murders…"

He chuckled. "Hey, I'm sure there are knives out there that don't want to cut anything but tomatoes."

She laughed but tapered off quickly, and sighed. "I just can't even wrap my head around it, ya know? What would it be like to not remember something like this?"

Rick shook his head. "I honestly have no idea."

"I've been trying to think of it as if it were rape. Hypothetically, would I want to remember? Would it be more traumatizing to have no recollection of what happened?"

He shuddered. "I think so. Imagination is boundless. It doesn't take much effort to come up with all the worst-case scenarios. And," he added quickly, "Can we not talk about your hypothetical rape, please?" He shuddered again. Even if he was doing his damnedest to get over her, even thinking about her in the same context as the word rape was horrifyingly unsettling.

"Gladly," she answered wryly. "It's just the same level of violation."

"Mmm," he murmured in assent, busy thinking of the best way to kill her hypothetical rapist. Disembowelment might be nice.

"Hey, you with me over there?"

He looked over at her and saw that she was eyeing him with no small amount of concern. Crap, these were the wrong thoughts to be having, weren't they?

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said with a smile.

**Always, #1**

_Nikki and I are having some problems._

Kate raised an eyebrow at Rick's text, but closed the book she'd been pretending to read. It was almost midnight; she was usually fast asleep by now. But finding out that Montgomery's old files were stolen and that the thief was killed had her mind whirring and her body refusing to sleep. Knowing Castle, he probably knew that.

_Shoot_, she responded.

_She's had a really bad day,_ came his answer. _And she's on the outs with Rook. A bath isn't cutting it right now. So what does she do after work?_

She bit her lip. It wasn't a hard answer, was it? Nikki was an idealized version of herself, and it was something Kate could never bring herself to do.

_She calls him. If she needs him, she calls him. Whatever they're fighting about can't be that important._

Kate tapped her phone anxiously with a fingernail as she waited for his answer. She was quite sure that he'd be able to see right through her response, and the thought made her a little bit queasy. But she'd sent it anyway and was rather proud of herself for the progress she was making. She nearly jumped out of her skin when her phone vibrated.

_Are you sure? He was really kind of a douche._

She snorted.

_This is not new information, Castle. But she keeps him around anyway._

_Fair,_ he answered. _I think you just really want me to write another sex scene._

Kate laughed out loud this time.

_In your dreams._

_Hey, how'd you know?_

She made some sort of noise that sounded like part laugh, part gasp, part choke, and immediately clapped her hand over her mouth. What was she, fifteen years old?

_My witchy powers_, she answered. _Duh. And why are you up writing so late?_

_Ah, of course, silly me,_ came his response. _And I'm writing because I'm not tired._

She sighed.

_Why don't I believe that?_

_Well, _he answered, _why are YOU still awake?_

She bit her lip. Crap.

_Not tired._

She could almost see his reaction to her answer; a smug smirk that gives way to one of those concerned sighs that always get her heart clenching.

_Try. Please._

Kate swallowed the lump in her throat. Crap, was she about to cry?

_Only if you do._

_I will, _he said. _I am. Right now. I'm in bed._

_Okay,_ she answered, scooting further down in bed so she was no longer propped up against the headboard. _So am I._

Jesus. This wasn't an intimate conversation she was having with him or anything, now, was it?

_Promise?_

She laughed and shook her head in amusement.

_Yes, Castle. I'm in bed. I'll see you tomorrow._

And with that, she closed her eyes. She knew sleep would be futile, but she'd promised Castle that she'd try, and that's exactly what she intended to do. Try.

**Always, #2**

Pick up.

Pick. Up.

_Pick up the damn phone, Castle._

Kevin Ryan's heart sank as he was sent to voicemail prematurely. If Castle was ignoring calls from the 12th, things between him and Beckett must be _bad_. And with that went Kevin's last hope.

He had to tell Gates. He _had to._ He put the phone back down and swallowed the bile that was threatening to rise in the back of his throat. _Crap._

They were going to hate him. He understood their idea of loyalty, and this was shattering that to pieces, perhaps irreparably. Hell, Javi used to be a _soldier_, for Christ's sake. Going against a fellow soldier in your unit was basically treasonous. And here Kevin was, about to make that exact choice.

He grit his teeth at a sudden wave of anger that washed over him. This wasn't his fault. He'd been on them about doing the right thing for _ages_. It was one thing to protect Montgomery, but it was quite another to do so at their own peril. If Gates didn't find out about everything that was going on, there would be a good chance that they'd both die trying to bring down this sniper. And bottom line? He'd rather have them alive and hating him than have to dump dirt over their coffins.

Castle would understand. Right? Castle's main priority, always, was to keep Beckett safe. Well, after whatever had just gone down between them, this might not be the case… But if actually was as in love with Beckett as Kevin expected, he'd still understand. On good terms or not, he wouldn't want her to die. So he'd have one ally at least.

Hopefully.

_Sonofabitch._

He took a deep breath, and wiped his shaking hands on his pants. _Man up_, he thought to himself. _You have no choice._

Gates startled a bit when he knocked on the door.

"Sir? I have something to tell you."

* * *

A/N: I had to get in one last late-night texting conversation, because from now on they'll be able to have these conversations WHILE THEY'RE IN BED TOGETHER. YESSSSSS. ;D

I'll probably write a post-ep for Always eventually (because of reasons), but for now I'm so reluctant to touch it because of its flawlessness. So for now I shall say farewell. See you in season 5, my lovely readers!


	24. Episodes 5x01, 02, 03, 04

A/N: HEY! Remember me? :) It's hard to believe I started this little-story-that-could back in season two's winter hiatus, and now we're into season five and Castle and Beckett are together and all is right in the world. Craziness. Thanks for sticking with me (or, if you're a new reader, joining me)!  
I usually end up writing a season finale post-ep over the summer, but I didn't this year. So, in place of that, one of my After the Storm ficlets is sort of a pre-ep. It was also kind of hard to get their voices back after such a long break, so please excuse any rustiness as I worked on that and figured out how to write these two goobers as a happy couple!

* * *

**After the Storm, #1**

Crap, she was crying.

Kate Beckett was in bed with Richard Castle and damn if her emotions hadn't finally caught up with her. _Jesus._ She couldn't even begin to decipher the swirl of emotions gathering in her chest but they were making it hard to breathe properly. Exhaling shakily, she went to wipe away a tear making its way towards her ear but another hand beat her to it. She turned to see Castle lying on his side, looking at her with his heart in his eyes. That did absolutely nothing for the tightness in her chest.

"Talk to me," he murmured.

She let out a watery laugh. "I don't even know where to start."

He reached out and took her hand, gently loosening the fist she'd unconsciously clenched in the sheet above her chest. Her breathing eased as his fingers slipped between hers, and she found her eyes drawn to the spot where they rested on the mattress. _Partners_. "The beginning is usually a good place," he said softly.

"God," she sighed, "I don't know where that is anymore."

He squeezed her hand. "Well, are these sad tears?"

She laughed again and shook her head, closing her eyes as another one escaped. "No. Overwhelmed tears." With a sigh, she opened her eyes. "Do you want the version that starts last night, or the version that starts last May?"

His eyebrows twitched upwards; clearly he hadn't been expecting the events of the previous year to come into play. "Today," he decided. "Let's start with today."

"Okay." She swallowed hard. "Tell me you expected this to happen after last night."

He smiled sadly. "Not at all. I was expecting the next time I saw you to be when I found your picture in the obituary section of the newspaper, to be honest."

Oh god, and now she was nauseous. "I'm so sorry," she choked, rolling onto her side to face him. "Castle, I never—"

"It's okay," he said, wiping another tear from her cheek. "This isn't about me right now. Tell me about what happened today."

She closed her eyes as his touch lingered for a moment. "Okay," she said, taking a deep breath and trying to regain her train of thought. "Well, the boys were able to find Maddox through the rental car company."

Rick blew out a breath. "Oh. So that worked."

Kate nodded. "Yeah. Espo and I went to his hotel to track him down. We left Ryan at the precinct to stay on grid and didn't bring backup, and when we got there…"

"He got you?" he asked.

"Yeah. He knocked Espo out and I chased him up onto the roof. And…" God, she didn't want to tell him this. She grit her teeth for a moment, and decided to just rip the Band-Aid. "He threw me off."

"Off? Off the _roof_?"

With a sad smile, she untangled their fingers and opened her hand to him, showing the angry red scrapes that came from her desperate attempt to cling to the concrete.

She was nearly crushed under the weight of the devastation on his face. "Oh my god. Kate, you—" He held the back of her hand in his palm, unwilling to let his touch cause her any more pain, and she could feel him trembling slightly. "Oh my god," he said again, his voice cracking.

"He left me hanging there," she said softly. "I watched him walk away and my only regret was you." At this, Rick tore his eyes away from her battered fingertips and met her tear-filled gaze with a matching one of his own. "I didn't think about the case. At all. It was just you."

She watched his Adams apple bob as he swallowed. "How'd you get back up?"

Another sad smile. "Ryan. But I thought it was you calling my name at first."

His face fell further, if possible. "It should've been. I should've been there, I—"

"No," she said forcefully, shaking her head. "I needed it to be Ryan. And you were at Alexis's graduation."

He blinked. "Oh. Right. Crap."

She chuckled. "Yeah. So. Ryan grabbed me at the last possible second—"

Rick groaned and squeezed her hand tighter.

"—and he had told Gates. So she suspended us. Esposito and me."

"You're _suspended_?"

"Yes. Well, no. I resigned."

"You WHAT?!" he cried, dropping her hand and gripping her upper arm, his eyes wide.

"Resigned," she repeated evenly. "You know, quit. Stepped down…"

"I know, I – but – why?" he stuttered.

"Because I had to," she said, her eyes filling with tears again. "It was going to kill me."

"Your mother's case was going to kill you."

"And I don't know how to be a detective without it!" This gave him pause, and she swallowed the lump in her throat before continuing. "I'm like an addict, Castle. I had to quit cold turkey."

The somewhat frenzied look in his eyes softened, as did his grip on her arm, and he sighed. "Do you think you're gonna go back?"

She shrugged, chewing on her bottom lip. "I don't know if I can."

He took her hand again. "It doesn't have to be all or nothing, ya know. It's possible to be a cop and still… live. I think you just need to learn how."

"If I decide I want to."

"That goes without saying," he said with a smile. "So I think that sufficiently explains why _today_ was overwhelming, but I have one more question."

"Shoot."

"Why on earth," he began, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, "were you walking around in the rain before you came over here?"

She laughed, really laughed this time. "I went to that playground. Where we talked after last summer."

He smiled, and she knew he knew the significance. "In the rain, Kate? Really?"

"Just trying to hit all the romantic clichés before I showed up at your doorstep and threw myself at you."

He threw his head back and laughed, big and loud and surprised, and before she could begin to stifle the impulse – _oh_, wait, she didn't have to do that anymore! – she leaned forward and kissed the exposed line of his jaw. His laughter immediately caught in his throat. "Ah – wait," he groaned. "Hold that thought."

"Why?" she hummed against his skin.

"Because we need to finish this conversation," he said, his voice strained. She pulled back to look at him and, though he was breathing a bit faster than usual, he was looking at her intently. "You brought up last May."

Ah, yeah. He wouldn't be so easily deterred from that.

Perhaps he could sense her hesitance, because he leaned in to kiss her forehead and continued. "How about I ask questions? Would that help?"

She nodded. "Worth a shot."

He settled back where he could see her face. "Why did you lie?" he asked softly.

She smiled wryly. "Straight for the jugular, huh?"

"Hey, we're pretty good at not talking about things," he said with a chuckle, "And that really hasn't gotten us anywhere."

"True." She sighed, steeling herself for the conversation to come. "I lied because… I felt like I had to, I guess? Dealing with that meant dealing with a whole slew of other stuff that I couldn't handle, so I just… boxed it all up." She averted her eyes from his. "And I wanted to wait to talk about it until I could actually _do_ something about it and be in a relationship, but god, that was _not_ the time."

"But it wasn't… it wasn't because you didn't have feelings for me?"

_Shit_, is that what he thought? "No, no, absolutely not," she said quickly, relieved when the nervousness cleared from his eyes. "No, I – it killed me to have to lie. But you deserved someone somebody who was whole, and I was…" she trailed off. "I could barely sit up on my own, I'd just found out that Montgomery had been lying to me for our entire relationship, there was a sniper who was trying to kill me for investigating my mom's murder… A relationship has to be a two-way street. I was dealing with too much of my own crap to be anything more than a burden."

"You could never be a burden," he said. "Never."

She smiled sadly. "Well, than you would've become a crutch. I would've used you to heal and that would not have been good in the long run. For either of us."

He paused for a moment. "Okay, point taken. But you could've just told me all of this then. I would've understood if you said you wanted to wait."

"I had no way of knowing that. I didn't want to risk hurting you more by telling you and not following through. I didn't want to pressure it. Because I know you, Castle, and I know how I am with you. If I'd given you an inch, I would've ended up letting you take the whole mile. I just… I didn't want to screw us up before we'd even began. So I lied." She bit the inside of her cheek to try to keep the tears at bay. "And I hope you can forgive me."

Suddenly his hand was sliding into her hair and his lips were on hers. "Of course I forgive you," he murmured against her mouth.

She wanted to cry with relief, but placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away. "Don't let me off the hook. More blunt questions."

He smiled, love leaking out of every pore, and _man_ was she in trouble with him. "Okay. Why did you leave?"

She sighed. "Because I wanted to heal by myself. I _had _to heal by myself. I didn't… I couldn't let anyone see me like that."

She could see in his face that he wanted to argue with her, but he swallowed it back and instead asked, "But why the lack of communication? If you had let me know I would've understood, or at least tried to understand. I wouldn't have been happy about it, but it would've been better than losing you and then… losing you."

"Because I'm just really good at hurting people," she muttered reluctantly, eyes darting away. "I thought it'd be easier, but…" She trailed off, and her eyes met his again. "And you were still here afterwards. And you _waited_ for me. Why?"

His brow furrowed; she sounded almost accusatory. "What?"

"All I've ever done is hurt you, Castle." She nearly spit the words out. "And I honestly cannot wrap my mind around the fact that we're here right now because I'm so happy and god knows I don't deserve it after everything I've put you through—"

"Whoa, whoa, hey," he broke in, curling his arm around her and pulling her into his chest. She went willingly, burying her face in his neck. "That is absolutely not true. There's been some hurt there, yes, but do you think I'd willingly put up with you if _all_ you did was hurt me? I'm not _quite_ that masochistic."

She chuckled, and he stroked a hand through her hair and continued. "You want to know what you've done to me? You've inspired me. You got me excited about writing again. You've given me something – and _someone_ – to care about. You've helped me mature. You've challenged me. You told me no! Do you have any idea how rarely I heard that word before you came along?" She laughed, and he pulled back far enough so he could see her face. "Do you need me to keep going? 'Cause I've got plenty."

"That's okay," she said softly. "I just want to make you happy."

"You do," he whispered, kissing her slow and deep and deliberate. "God, you do."

She rolled on top of him and they spoke no more.

**After the Storm, #2**

Kevin Ryan was pretty miserable.

Yes, he still firmly believed that he'd done the right thing by telling Gates what was going on. And Beckett had forgiven him, which was a huge weight off his shoulders. Esposito, of course, was another story entirely, but Ryan was willing to grudgingly accept that; after all, it wasn't Esposito that he'd caught dangling from a rooftop. And Esposito had a soldier's idea of loyalty. Ryan knew he'd come around eventually.

Or, well, he sure hoped he would. Because seeing the two of them and Castle lined up against him (or so it felt) was more painful than he'd like to admit.

It sucked. All of it. Esposito's anger, his entire team's absence from the precinct, having to turn away from them to go do the job they'd once shared. And now he was standing in a broken-down building with Beckett's only hope of solving her mother's murder strewn across the floor like confetti.

She'd said she was done. But she wasn't, was she? It'd be impossible for her to ever be done, _really_ done. Clearly she wanted it solved badly enough to continue investigating, to end up in this building with her sniper, the man who'd thrown her off a roof only the day before, to try and get the evidence she needed. And now it was destroyed, along with any hope of escaping future attempts on her life.

Dammit. He needed to do _something_. There was absolutely no way he'd accept the fact that he'd gotten his two friends and colleagues suspended for absolutely nothing.

Ryan toed at the blackened floor morosely. The movement rustled some paper fragments nearby and, struck with a sudden spark of an idea, he kneeled down to look at them. They were tiny, sure, and kind of charred, but – wait, were those letters he could make out? He snatched up the fragment and held it up to the light; sure enough, several letters were partially visible. He wanted to cry in relief.

"Hey!" he called to a CSU tech. "Can I have one of those evidence bags?"

Four hours later, he was trying to beat soot out of the knees of his pants when the door to Beckett's apartment flew open to reveal a gun pointed at his head.

**Cloudy With A Chance Of Murder**

"What's going on?" asked Kristina. Kate noticed that her lipstick was smudged (and almost the exact same color as her bikini) and had to stifle the urge to pull the trigger. "Is there a problem?" She sat up, resting her weight right on Castle's hips.

No. Oh _hell_ no.

"Yes," Kate answered, attempting to keep her voice even. "There's a problem. Please leave."

Kristina smiled slyly and looked down at Castle, who was attempting to squirm out from under her without moving his hips too much. "But we're kind of in the middle of something."

"Are you sure about that?" Castle asked dryly under his breath.

Kate pinched the bridge of her nose. "Please. Just leave."

"But—"

"This is the last time I'm going to be polite about this. Please get out."

"Excuse me," Kristina said indignantly, "But this isn't your home. Who are you to kick me out?"

_The woman who's in a relationship with the man you're straddling. The woman who half lived here all summer_. The retorts were on the tip of her tongue but, damn it all to hell, Kate couldn't say a damn thing.

"Uh, Kristina?" Castle piped up; he could probably see the steam pouring from her ears. "She has a gun. You might want to let me handle this one."

The journalist pouted. "Okay," she reluctantly agreed, sliding from his lap and retrieving her dress from the floor. As she shrugged back into it, Kate noticed that it closed with snaps. _Snaps_. Who the hell wears a dress with snaps?

_Someone whose only intention is easy removal, that's who_, her mind supplied. She swallowed back a fresh wave of fury as Kristina strutted to the door.

"Call me," she said, throwing a sultry smile over her shoulder.

Kate watched the door shut behind her (_good effing riddance_) before turning to glare at Castle, who was sitting on the couch and looking a bit sheepish.

"Hey," he said nervously.

"Don't '_hey_' me," Kate shot back, eyes narrowed. "I came over here because I thought you were in danger, but clearly you seem to be doing okay."

"Uh, no, that was borderline assault," he said, standing up and attempting to wipe the lipstick from his face. "Some people need to learn that no means no."

She rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest.

"Okay," he said uneasily, "okay, you're mad. But I _do_ know who murdered Mandy. I think." He faltered under her glare. "Pretty sure. Kinda."

She heaved a sigh. Murder called; her jealousy could wait. "Okay. What's your theory?"

**Secret's Safe With Me**

"My mother just told me she's never leaving me alone," he said as soon as she picked up the phone. "Come hold me."

He grinned at her laughter, bright and clear and surprised. "She's never leaving you alone?"

"Now that Alexis is gone, she has decided to continue living with me so I'm never alone. That would've been cool when I was four, but forty? Uh…"

She laughed again. "Like you'd ever kick her out."

"Oh, never! But this little revelation conveniently comes on the heels of her 'hey, I already know you and Beckett are together!' reveal. I refuse to believe this is a coincidence."

"I think you're thinking about this too much."

He hummed. "Perhaps. Or maybe my mother really is determined to constantly get in the way, preventing you and I from ever having a quiet moment to ourselves, thereby ruining our relationship and ensuring—"

"Castle," she broke in, sounding half exasperated, half amused. "Your mother isn't going to ruin our relationship."

"You sure about that?" he asked, not even worried about his mother but just wanting to hear Kate say she has faith in them.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said, her smile audible. "After all, there's still _my_ apartment to escape to for… what'd you call it? _Quiet moments to ourselves_?"

He chuckled, unable to help the flare of arousal in his belly. "Okay, maybe not so quiet."

"Ah, and _there's_ the ego," she joked.

He grinned. "And I was serious when I asked you to come over, you know."

"_Asked?_ You didn't ask me, Castle. There was definitely no question mark on the end of that sentence."

"Okay, let me rephrase. I was serious when I _stated_ that you should come over. So I'll state it again; you should come over. Also, nitpicking over my grammar? So hot."

She laughed. "Are you sure you don't want to come to my place instead?"

"Yeah! Now that my family knows about us I can finally flaunt you in front of my mother. I think she might cry with happiness."

"Silver lining of her continuing to live with you?"

"Pretty much the only one, yes."

"You're such a liar," she said with what sounded suspiciously like a giggle. "But okay. I'll be there soon."

And she was. And he got to pull her into his home and kiss her without worrying that his mother was just upstairs, and it was wonderful.

"Castle," she said against his mouth, pressing his chest away from hers. "We need to stop."

"Why?" he asked, moving to suck on that one spot on her neck that she likes so much.

"Because – _oh_ – because your mom knowing about us doesn't mean I want her seeing you give me a hickey." He chuckled against her neck and relented, pouting slightly. She looked up at him, smiling coyly, with enough lust in her eyes to make him want to drag her to his bedroom, _now_. "Mauling me up against the front door is more of a home-alone kind of activity," she muttered.

He groaned. "Than we _should_ be at your place."

She shrugged. "Hey, I offered. And I'm kind of surprised you didn't accept, considering you just recently learned about the existence of a certain box you might be interested in." She smiled innocently and quirked an eyebrow.

Oh – _oh._ How had _that_ slipped his mind?

"That's not fair," he said hoarsely. He cleared his throat and crowded her back against the door again. "You can't tell me not to – and then talk about—"

"Hi Martha!" She ducked around him and headed towards the kitchen, where his mother was now entering from the stairs.

He groaned and let his head fall forward, hitting the door with a hollow thunk.

**Murder, He Wrote**

Rick observed Kate as she changed into a dress for their dinner with Vinny, and not (to the chagrin of his man parts) in a sexual way. She had talked and laughed and been utterly delicious while they were preparing dinner together, an act so domestic his chest ached with it. But now that silence had fallen, she seemed far too preoccupied. And when she stared absentmindedly into the mirror for almost a full minute, he decided he could no longer keep his silence.

"Okay, I can practically hear the wheels turning in your head," he said, propping his hip against the dresser. "What's up?"

She turned to face him, meeting his eye with a small smile, and reached up to straighten his collar. "It's kind of stupid."

"Nonsense."

Sighing, she slid her hands down to rest on his chest. "It's just… being here while Ryan and Esposito are simultaneously digging through my old boyfriends is… weird."

His brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Well, the last time you spent a summer here was with Gina. But you invited me here for a weekend first, remember? And I said no because—"

"Because you were with Demming," he said, finally catching on.

She nodded. "And today was the first time I've heard his name in I don't even know how long. Figures it'd be here," she muttered, almost to herself.

He was lost again. "Wait, why does it figure?"

She hesitated for a second, biting her lip and looking up at him through her eyelashes in a way that made him want to crush her to his chest; he settled for placing his hands on her waist. "Because I broke up with him for you."

Rick's earth seemed to shift off its axis. "I'm sorry, what?"

She chuckled slightly. "Do you remember the going away party the boys threw for you in the precinct? And how I pulled you out of it because I wanted to tell you something?"

Things began slowly clicking into place. "Oh god…" he groaned.

"I had broken up with him that day, when you were driving Alexis to Princeton. I was going to tell you that I'd changed my mind about the weekend…"

"But then Gina showed up," he finished for her. He felt like he really needed to sit down. "So when I spent that entire summer thinking you didn't want me around because you had Demming…" He closed his eyes. "Crap."

"Mmm," she hummed in agreement. "'Crap' pretty much sums it up."

He opened his eyes. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked softly; not accusatory, merely curious.

She shrugged a shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Thought you should know. I think it was a pretty significant moment in our relationship."

"Do you resent me for it?" he asked, suddenly fearful.

She smiled and shook her head. "No. With everything that happened between then and now, I would've just ended up pushing you away. And I really can't complain about where we are right now."

He smiled, and nearly wanted to laugh with happiness at his newest realization. "So you've – you've wanted this for almost as long as I have, then."

The look on her face was positively luminous, and he was almost upset when she stepped closer and nuzzled his neck. But then she placed a soft kiss just above his collarbone and whispered, "Guilty as charged."

And he decided he could never begin to be anything less than elated for the rest of his life.

* * *

A/N: Is everyone else as thrilled as I am that this sappy stuff is pretty canon now? Yes? Cool. ;)


	25. Episodes 5x05, 06, 07, 08

A/N: Soooo, guess who forgot she'd written stories for four episodes and that it was time to post a new update! :/ Heh. Oops. That's what I get for attempting to be a student, intern, working girl and dedicated fan all at the same time. I hope this is worth the extra few days' wait!

* * *

**Probable Cause**

They head back to his place that night. Kate wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to deal with "family time" right now, but she'd be damned if she'd say no to anything Castle wanted at this point. And there may or may not have been a giant part of her that wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed with him.

Martha was on them the moment Castle pushed open the door, flying into a tizzy at the open cuts on Kate's face and dragging her upstairs to get patched up. Kate allowed herself to be sat on the closed toilet and immediately disinfected. She tried not to wince as she felt the alcohol stinging in her cheek, and watched as Martha took a seat next to her on the edge of the bathtub.

"I'm so glad Richard found you," Martha said suddenly. "Or, rather, I suppose you were the one who did the finding," she corrected with a wink.

Kate chuckled at the memory of their first meeting but shook her head in disbelief. "You probably shouldn't be. He wouldn't be dealing with arrests and serial killers if it weren't for me."

"You're far too hard on yourself, darling. My son dragged you into your working relationship kicking and screaming, so as far as I'm concerned, there's no one to blame for the danger he's in but himself. You, on the other hand, get him out of it." She squeezed Kate's knee. "And I am so very, very grateful for that."

Kate looked away shyly. "Yeah, well. It's nothing he wouldn't do for me."

Martha smiled. "He loves you, you know."

After a beat, Kate met her eyes again. She nodded. "I know."

That night, after a dinner that Kate didn't even need to fake-smile her way through, she and Castle retreated to his room. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she emerged to find him standing at the window, his back to her.

"You okay?" she asked quietly, moving to stand next to him.

"He's still out there," he murmured, his eyes scanning the skyline in front of them.

She sighed. "You _do_ know how implausible that is, right? I shot him. _You_ shot him. He fell off a bridge. The odds of him surviving all of that are miniscule."

"Yes, I know, I sound crazy," he said impatiently. She slid her hand into his and he took a deep breath. "But we didn't find his body. And until I have evidence, I don't believe this guy's dead."

"Hmm," she hummed. "You sound like me." He chuckled. "What makes you so sure he's alive?"

"I… understand him," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Obviously I don't on a very fundamental level, but… I plot fake murders because I like working out all the details, the clues, figuring out how the police might go about solving it." He looked at her. "Tyson kills for the same reason. It's like a performance for him. He has the actors, the scenery, the script. He enjoys manipulating people and having the exact outcome he wants to happen actually happen. I _get_ that."

"So you're saying this was his plan from the beginning? To fake his own death?"

"Well, I don't think he would've been upset if I had actually been killed in prison. Hell of a backup plan, right?"

She shuddered slightly. "You could say that."

"This is the ideal situation for him. He managed to almost ruin my life while ensuring that nobody will be looking for him anymore. He's good to go wreak as much havoc as he'd like now, because as far as the world is concerned, he's dead." He sighed and turned back to the window. "But he's not. I _swear_ he's not."

Kate smiled sadly and tugged on his hand. "Come on. Let's go to bed. We can talk about this another time."

"He watched us."

She froze. "What?"

"He told me. He'd been poking around in my life for a good long time, and he said he… he watched us making love."

"Oh my god." She dropped his hand and wrapped her arms around her stomach; she'd never felt so violated. "Oh my god."

"Yep," Castle said morosely, violently pulling the curtains shut before turning to face her. "Horrifying, isn't it?"

She took a deep, steadying breath that caught in her chest when she saw the unhappy expression on his face. "Well," she said slowly. "At least we put on a good show."

He snorted. Their eyes met, and they simultaneously burst into laughter.

He reached out and grabbed her waist and she stumbled into him, hiding her mirth in his shoulder as his chest quaked with laughter. "God," he wheezed, "that's so accurate. That's probably the best action he's ever gotten."

She giggled wildly and pulled back to look up at him. His eyes were happy again, sparkly and exactly the way they should be. "How about a private performance tonight, hmm?" she asked, reaching up to kiss his jaw.

"Mmmm. Yes." She felt him smile before nearly falling as he pulled her after him. "But we are doing this _nowhere near the window._"

**The Final Frontier**

"Vin Diesel."

Rick tore his eyes away from the glass in the observation room, through which he was watching Davis sweat as he waited for his interrogation, and turned to face his girlfriend, who was leaning against the doorframe. "What about him?"

"He's bald and attractive."

His brow furrowed. "Are you trying to get me to set you up with him, or…?"

She laughed and pushed off the wall to come stand next to him. "No, goofball. It means that if you woke up bald tomorrow, I'm not entirely averse to it. But none of that pattern baldness nonsense."

"And why is that?" he asked, quite amused.

She raised an eyebrow. "Do _you_ think that's attractive?"

He cringed. "No."

"Exactly. If you're in, you've gotta be _all_ in. Just accept the fact that you're bald and get rid of all of it, ya know? Go for broke."

"Well," he said with a chuckle, "it's good to know our relationship doesn't hinge on whether or not I have hair."

She laughed and reached up to scrape her fingers through his hair. "Kind of a moot point, don't you think?"

He shrugged innocently. "Hey, crazier things have happened. Like you turning out to be a total fangirl."

Her mouth fell open. "I am not!"

"Puh-lease! Don't bother denying it, Beckett. You're a fangirl."

"Being a big fan of one show does _not _mean I'm a fangirl," she said indignantly.

"One show? Do the words 'Temptation Lane' mean anything to you?"

She huffed, glaring at him. "I do _not_ have any Temptation Lane costumes."

"But you're just as attached to it," he reminded her.

"Look, I only get like this about things I really, really like."

It took him a moment, but a glorious possibility struck him and he grinned devilishly. "Like my books?"

She gaped at him. "I _promise_ you I do not own an 'I heart Richard Castle' t-shirt."

"That can be remedied."

"No."

"That _will_ be remedied."

"Castle."

"Maybe for your birthday…" he mused.

"I swear, if you—"

"No," he breathed excitedly, "for _my_ birthday!"

"Castle, I would _not_ wear that."

"Why?" he asked with a pout. "Do you not heart me?"

He was suddenly very afraid that he'd gotten much too close to pressuring her to say the L-word and mentally kicked himself for speaking without thinking yet again. But based on her amused smile, she didn't read too much into it.

"Of course I heart you, Castle. But that does not mean I need a t-shirt that says it."

He paused. "What about a sweatshirt? Or shorts? That'd be kind of fun, right? My name written across your—"

"_No_, Castle."

"Okay, what about something only I would see? Oh, wow, this opens up a whole new world of possibilities!"

She shot a brief glance heavenward and shook her head in exasperation. "I'm pretty sure the things you like to see me in don't have enough fabric to fit your name on them."

He cackled. "I didn't hear a 'no'!"

She looked him dead in the eyes. "No." But before he could deflate too much, she stepped forward and whispered in his ear, "But I'm still up for that _private signing_ if you are."

**Swan Song**

As soon as Joel Mitas returned to the 12th Precinct after his brief trip back to the production studio, he found himself being very nearly bodily dragged into an interview room by Detective Beckett. Castle was hot on her heels (as usual), and he snapped the door shut as soon as the three of them were inside before perching on the edge of the table.

"Joel, we have a situation," Beckett began sternly, her posture rigid and tense.

Joel fought the urge to gulp. "What can I do for you?" he asked, straightening his glasses nervously.

Detective Beckett glanced over at Castle, who stepped in. "Is there a policy preventing coworkers from dating at the company you work for, Joel?"

"Yeah. Why?"

The writer and the detective shared another look, and Castle took a deep breath. "Yeah, you can't send your footage to Captain Gates."

Joel opened his mouth in surprise before realizing… well, he wasn't very surprised. He'd just assumed it was common knowledge that these two were an item. "I, uh, but I have to," he said.

"Why?" Beckett asked angrily. He met her gaze and was interested to see genuine fear there. If he'd learned anything in the few days of filming her, it was that for as much as she could school her features, her eyes were hopelessly expressive.

"I have to keep the boss happy, right? Yours and mine," he answered. Beckett rubbed her hand across her forehead in agitation as he continued. "And what would be my grounds to deny her request? It's perfectly valid."

Castle pinched the bridge of his nose. "There could be some really serious fallout that comes from her watching that." Beckett suddenly rushed to shut the blinds on the window into the bullpen, and Castle used her flurry of activity as cover. "She could lose her job," he whispered urgently.

Joel blinked, a weight of unease beginning to settle in his stomach. He'd been able to watch the way Detective Beckett operated and it'd be a damn shame for such a great cop to be penalized for falling in love.

She reappeared at Castle's side just as Joel was raising his hands in supplication. "Alright, I'll see what I can do."

"Look, that footage might ruin our partnership for us," Beckett said urgently. "Gates is looking for any reason whatsoever to throw him out, and she will _not_ hesitate to use this as an excuse."

Joel glanced at Castle in time to see the utterly besotted look on the man's face as he gazed at his partner. And they were each more concerned about the other being penalized? Jeez, this was no office fling.

Unable to find any reason to argue anymore, Joel sighed. "Okay. I'll make sure there's nothing incriminating in what I give her."

"You will?" Beckett asked cautiously.

"We're here to observe, not mess with the way things are," he answered honestly, seeing Castle nearly sag with relief out of the corner of his eye.

Beckett's posture visibly relaxed as well, and she smiled at him for what may have been the first time. "You're good people, Joel. Thanks."

She turned and left the room. As soon as the coast was clear, Castle was on him, gripping his hand and clapping him on the shoulder. "You rock, man!" he said under his breath, genuine gratitude shining in his eyes.

Joel watched him disappear out the door after his girlfriend and sighed. He had a ton of footage to start sifting through and a lie to devise… but damn if he didn't think those crazy kids were going to last.

**After Hours**

Kate could barely stay awake as she shuffled through her keys, the paint of her front door cool against her forehead. She and Castle had shaken off their parents as they left the precinct, and now he was swaying slightly on his feet as she finally forced the correct key into the lock. The door clicked open and they stumbled inside, movements clumsy with exhaustion. It had been a long, long time since Kate had gone this long without sleep and to say she was out of practice would be a gross understatement. She'd made it through the night on adrenaline and anxiety; once they'd ebbed, there wasn't much left keeping her on her feet. So, despite the various other activities she'd rather be doing with Castle in her bed, she wasn't quite sure either one of them was up for any of it.

However short Leo said life was, Kate was sure they'd have plenty of time for that later.

She was out of her heels in two steps, coat deposited over the back of the couch after a third, and halfway to her bedroom before she was aware of having moved at all. Castle followed her in and stripped down to his boxers as she fumbled into a t-shirt and leggings. She slid under her comforter with a soft sigh of contentment and was soon being gathered up into Castle's arms and arranged so she was resting on his chest.

"This is nice," she mumbled against his skin, eyes falling closed. "We don't spend many nights together just sleeping."

"Hate to break it to you," he whispered, "but it's not night anymore, so…"

She groaned and felt a chuckle vibrate through him. "You're lucky I'm too tired to bitch about you splitting hairs."

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm lucky for more reasons than I can count."

She smiled and squeezed his waist affectionately. Silence fell and she began to doze off, but he spoke again.

"Can I ask you something?"

She yawned. "Now?"

"Yeah."

She rubbed her eyes blearily. "Mkay. Go for it."

"Do you really think you're 'just some cop'?"

Huh. She hadn't been expecting that. She turned to look at him, her chin resting on his sternum. "What?"

He looked nervous, almost. Really concerned and sleepy and adorable and _god_ she wanted to kiss him but didn't have the energy to move that far. "In the basement," he said. "You said I'm a world-famous, bestselling author and you're just some cop." He swallowed, his gaze intense. "Is that how you feel?"

"Yeah," she said, exhaustion loosening her tongue and her inhibitions. She shrugged a shoulder. "I think you forget that I spent a long time before I met you reading your books and seeing pictures of you in tabloids and—"

"That's the complete opposite of the way I see it," he broke in, cutting off her mildly slurred babbling. She stopped, surprised. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "The way I see it, you're a superhero, and I'm just some guy with a laptop and an overactive imagination." She swallowed around the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. "So please, _never_ feel weird about the whole different worlds thing, because _that_ is not my world." He smiled almost shyly, love shining in his eyes. "You are."

It took Herculean effort, but Kate dragged herself up and kissed him one, two, three times before hiding her face in the crook of his neck. "You're kind of wonderful," she murmured.

He squeezed her gently. "Well, you once quit your job for me, so I figured it was only fair that you know it goes both ways."

She chuckled, borderline delirious now. "I did, didn't I?"

"Mmm," he hummed, kissing her forehead. "You're far too good for me."

"Funny," she mumbled as she lost the battle with unconsciousness, "I was thinking the same thing about you."

* * *

A/N: You know what I realized just now? In December I will have been writing this story for THREE YEARS. HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?! Man. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing and just being generally awesome! :)


	26. Episodes 5x09, 10, 11, 12

A/N: Hey there, lovelies! :) Winter hiatus always feels like it lasts forever, doesn't it? I'm not going to lie - these last few stories were a serious struggle. Secret Santa was no problem, but since the hiatus ended? I've had basically zero inspiration. My muse has abandoned Castle and flitted over to Miracle (a movie about the 1980 "miracle on ice" Olympic hockey team. If you don't know it, YOU SHOULD) and convinced me to write a fic for that. So, between a (sort of) new fandom, four classes, an internship, a job and a thesis to research and write... wow. This was hard. But I think I did okay. I hope.

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**Secret Santa**

"What made you change your mind?"

Dinner was long over, Alexis had long ago un-cancelled her evening plans with Max, and Martha had long ago made herself scarce. Rick had flipped off all the overhead lights in the loft and he and Kate were curled up on the couch together, kissing and sipping hot chocolate by the light of the tree. At his question, she lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him and he nearly choked at her beauty; the soft, twinkly light made her look positively ethereal.

"Change my mind?" she asked.

"To come here," he answered.

She hummed and shifted her legs across his lap. "It sucked watching you leave," she said, digging her toes into his thigh affectionately.

"And _that_ made you decide to give up your holiday tradition?" he asked dryly.

She snickered. "Not entirely. I just… I realized I told you that your tradition should evolve, but I was letting mine hold me back."

He squeezed her knee. "What do you mean?"

"I started my tradition when I was a different person than I am now. I don't live and die by my mother's case anymore. And while I do want to honor her memory, and I do want to protect other people…" She shrugged. "I don't want that to get in the way of my own life. And besides," she said with a smile that made his heart flip in his chest, "I thought, 'I have this amazing man who wants to spend Christmas Eve with me, but I'm staying at _work_?'" She scrunched up her nose adorably. "What kind of priorities are those?"

He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "Amazing, huh?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head but was clearly battling a smile. "Don't make me take that back."

He chuckled and hugged her closer to him; she nestled her head on his shoulder again. "Never. So how hard did you have to work to find someone to cover your shift?" She groaned, and he laughed. "That bad?"

"I had to organize this complicated four-way shift trade that now has me working for Karpowski on New Year's Day," she said. "And I _still_ owe her. Huge." A beat passed in silence before she took a deep, contented breath and whispered, "But I'm here now. So it's worth it."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and stroked her hair back off her neck. "No regrets?"

She hummed. "None. I'd like to be there, but I'd much rather be here."

"You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that," he murmured.

"Well," she said slyly, toying with the top button of his shirt, "I have something else to say that might make you pretty happy."

"Oh?"

"I got you a present."

He narrowed his eyes and shifted her so he could see her face. "That's supposed to make me happy?"

"Well, technically I got it for myself, but I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy it more than I do."

He didn't cotton on until she shot him a sultry smile that made his knees go liquid and slid out of his lap, beckoning him after her with a quirk of a finger. "Wha – you – ?"

"You gonna come unwrap your gift?" she asked innocently, turning and walking towards his bedroom with, _oh god,_ an unholy swing in her hips.

He caught up with her in a flash, bumping her from behind and causing her to stumble into the waiting cradle of his arms. Hearing her startled breath, he worked his fingertips under the waistband of her pants and grinned when he felt lace. "Best. Christmas. Ever."

**Significant Others**

"Are you ready for this?"

Kate bit her lip as Castle slid a smorelette onto the plate in front of her. "Honestly… I don't know."

"Oh, come on!" he said with a pout. "It's delicious."

She eyed it dubiously. "It's marshmallows and eggs. And chocolate."

"Don't forget the graham cracker."

Her nose crinkled. "Right."

He nearly whined. "You stomach dead bodies every day! There is _no way _you will have any trouble with this!"

Slowly, deliberately, she picked up her fork and cut a corner of the item in question and brought it to her lips. He looked at her expectantly and she sighed. "Okay. Bottoms up," she said, and popped the bite into her mouth.

She chewed nervously. It was weird. Really weird. But the egg was plain enough that pairing it with such a sweet combination as chocolate and marshmallows wasn't exceedingly awful.

"Well?"

She swallowed. "I don't think I'll be requesting it any time soon, but it's not as horrendous as I thought it would be."

He punched the air in victory and dashed back over to the stove to whip one up for himself. "Told you so!"

She grinned and shook her head in amusement before a little voice in the back of her subconscious started whispering to her. _He writes books about you. But what do you know about him?_

"How often does Meredith visit?" she asked, taking another bite of her smorelette.

He shrugged. "Every couple of years. Why?"

"Does it bother you?"

"Does what bother me? That she visits, or that she visits so infrequently?" He paused. "Or, well, frequently."

She shrugged. "Both, I guess."

"At first it bothered me that she never seemed to care that we had a child together," he said, dropping marshmallows into the eggs sizzling in the pan. "First because I didn't think I could raise Alexis on my own, and then because it bothered Alexis that mommy was never around. But we each got over it, and it just sort of… became a fact of life."

"And what about now? Does it bother you that she visits?"

He chuckled. "It bothers me that she steamrolls her way into my life when she visits."

She laughed. "She does have a way of taking over, doesn't she?"

He added chocolate to the pan and grinned. "Does she ever. But no, she has the right to see her daughter, so I've just gotta suck it up for a few days when the time comes that she decides to be motherly." Growing contemplative, he turned to look at her. "You know that's why I let her stay here, right? Because she's Alexis's mom? It wasn't because of… well, anything else." He gave her a pointed look. "I think you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know," she said with a smile. "I think I get it. I've never dated anyone with a kid before, so exes that are also mothers are kind of a foreign concept."

He smiled understandingly. "Unfortunately you're never completely rid of them."

"I've realized that," she said with a nod.

"So you're okay with Meredith's craziness being a rare but regular part of life?"

She chuckled. "As long as she sleeps at a hotel, yes."

He grinned and turned back to his cooking, yelping slightly as he saw it beginning to singe. She couldn't help but laugh as she watched him hurry to save it, feeling immeasurably lighter. See? One slight prod in the right direction and he was telling her things about himself.

This wasn't going to be so hard at all.

Baby steps.

**Under the Influence**

Joey was pissed.

Oh man, he was _so_ pissed.

How the hell had he managed to mess up his escape the night before and end up handcuffed to a stupid chair in a stupid police station? He rattled the cuffs against the armrest in agitation. This sucked.

He looked around. Nobody was even paying attention to him. Esposito and the hot detective and that writer guy had shut themselves in a room to look through his juvie record, and he didn't have a clue where the other guy had gone. Didn't really care, to be honest.

He sighed, reaching out and snagged the autographed baseball Esposito had on his desk. He couldn't make out the signature (even if he could, he wasn't much into baseball so he wouldn't know the name anyway), but he was sure it was worth something somewhere. Now if he could just get out of here…

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

It was the other cop. He plunked a soda down onto the desk next to him and sank into his own desk chair, eyeing him knowingly.

Joey played innocent. "Do what?"

The cop – Ryan, was it? – chuckled. "I'm not as dumb as I look, man. Put the ball down."

Joey rolled his eyes. "At least you know you look dumb." But he grudgingly returned the ball to its home.

Ryan raised his eyebrows. "Did you mean for that to offend me? Because I work with Esposito. I get five comments like that every day before ten in the morning."

Joey scowled and slouched back in the chair. "You trying to bribe me, bro?" he asked, mustering up as much rudeness as possible and nodding to the can of soda. "'Cause I ain't tellin' you jack."

Ryan shook his head. "Nope. Not trying to bribe you."

"Than what's it for?"

He shrugged. "Trying to be nice."

Joey raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Why not?"

"Because I'm just some low-life, criminal kid you need to help you solve a murder," he said moodily.

Ryan paused and looked at him for a moment. "Not everyone is just trying to use you for something, Joey," he said. He stood up, patting Joey on the shoulder before disappearing into the break room.

Joey blinked and, after a moment's hesitation, popped the can open.

**Death Gone Crazy**

"So, are you going to talk to me about whatever's bothering you?"

Rick blinked and glanced sideways at Kate as her Crown Vic rolled to a stop at a red light. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not stupid, Castle."

"I never said you were."

"So don't feed me such ridiculous lies," she shot back, giving him a small smile. "I'm here to help."

Well, crap. She was right, wasn't she? He heaved a sigh, conceding defeat, and slouched lower in his seat. "It's Alexis."

"Ya know, the fact that she was at the precinct just now kind of gave that part away."

He groaned. "Ugh, you're annoying."

"Okay, I'm sorry," she said with a chuckle, that light musical sound that he loved so much. "Continue."

"She has a vlog."

"I kind of already know that too."

"I just – it's – she's an adult!" he spluttered. "What do I do?"

Kate's brow furrowed adorably as she hit the gas, accelerating through the intersection. "I'm going to need some more details."

"She won't listen to me anymore."

"Did she ever?"

He pouted. "Once upon a time."

"What are you so worried about?"

"People!" he cried. "Scary, scary people that could find her online and—"

"Castle, calm down," she said soothingly. "This is Alexis we're talking about. She's not stupid."

"I know, but—"

"Is she giving out her address in her vlog?"

He paused. "Well, no."

"Credit card information?"

"Not that I know of."

"Social security number?"

He made a face. "Okay, okay, I see your point."

"You told me she said she went to Rockefeller Center. That's a _big place_, Castle. Everybody in New York goes to Rockefeller Center. If she mentioned some hole-in-the-wall café, there might be more cause for concern. _Maybe_."

"Fine," he sighed. "You're right."

She smiled understandingly at him. "Seriously. I know we deal with murderers and psychopaths all the time, but the vast majority of people go their entire lives without running into one. Though," she added thoughtfully, "you're her father, which means she grew up with one, so…"

He laughed grudgingly. "I know, I know, I'm being ridiculous."

She shook her head and let go of the steering wheel with her right hand, sliding it instead into his. "No. What you're being is a great dad."

Letting out a sigh, Rick smiled to himself. Maybe he could learn to handle a grown-up daughter after all.

* * *

A/N: Fingers crossed I managed to entertain you a little bit! Thoughts?


	27. Episodes 5x13, 14, 15, 16

A/N: EEEEK, I fell a week behind. Life is getting majorly in the way of all fun things right now, so this was a struggle. But your reviews keep me motivated, so THANK YOU! I'm trying really hard for you guys! :) Now, back to work on my thesis. Sigh.

* * *

**Recoil**

Richard Castle wasn't a vengeful person. He just wasn't.

There was that time in grade school that Matty Weinberg had stolen his lunch money. Rick had shrugged it off, shared his best friend's sandwich at lunch and even picked Matty for his kickball team in gym class later that day. (It didn't hurt that Matty had been the best at kickball. But it was the principle of the thing.)

Then there was the time his girlfriend had broken up with him the night before prom. That one had stung, but he decided to go stag and spend the night with his friends. It had ended up being a fantastic night (involving some very blurry memories and several phone numbers scribbled on the palm of his hand), and he'd even managed to hug his ex-girlfriend goodbye after graduation.

Then, of course, there was the matter of his first agent. A new college student, Rick was young and inexperienced and naïve in the world of publishing, and the man had very nearly swindled him out of his first payday for his work. Rick sure as hell wouldn't be inviting him to any holiday parties any time soon, but he'd found Paula and happily left bad memories of any previous agents in the past.

He couldn't even muster any lingering ill will towards the women that had done him wrong, either. Meredith had left him with their young child, but he would always let her stay with them in the loft when she was in town. Kyra had broken his heart, but he would never _ever_ begrudge her her happiness. He and Gina had divorced, but amicably, and even during their worst fighting wouldn't think of finding a new publisher. Sofia… well, okay, that one was kind of rough. But she was dead now, so that was a moot point. But even Ellie Munroe – she'd flat out used him to get a part in a movie, and he'd told her to feel free to use him any time. (That would obviously have to be amended now that he was with Kate, but again. The principle of the thing.)

Even through all the killers and snipers and crooks Kate had dealt with – he'd attacked some of them, sure, but only under extreme circumstances. To protect her life he would've done just about anything.

But Bracken…

He'd heard the click of the lighter just as Kate had. Probably put it together at about the same time, maybe a split second sooner or later. He didn't really know. Didn't care. But what he _did_ know was that he saw Bracken nearing his would-be assassin, and he didn't do a damn thing about it.

Kate had, of course. She was always the more justice-minded of the two of them. But if she hadn't, he would've watched Bracken burn and been plenty happy about it.

Richard Castle wasn't a vengeful person. But he sure as hell wasn't a saint.

**Reality Star Struck**

"So, your first Valentine's day with Writer Boy, huh?"

Kate groaned; as much as she loved Lanie, she hated the way her friend was able to get her to talk about all manner of private things.

Lanie raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing across her lips. "Oh come on. You didn't think I was going to just let this one skate by, did you?"

"No," Kate said, resigning herself to the conversation. "I guess not."

"So, what are your plans?" Lanie prompted excitedly. "After your boring, 'let's not give each other gifts!' Christmas, I'm expecting something big," she said, leaning back into the couch and taking a sip of her wine.

"Oh you are, are you?" Kate asked wryly.

Lanie rolled her eyes. "Come on, girl! Throw me a bone! What'd you get him?"

Kate chuckled. "I didn't get him anything." She allowed Lanie's eyes to go comically wide for a moment before putting her out of her misery. "But I _am_ giving him something."

Lanie placed a hand over her heart. "Whew, girl, you almost gave me a heart attack. But this is good. It's hard to buy for the man that already has everything."

"Don't I know it," Kate muttered.

"So what are you giving him? You, wrapped in a bow?" Lanie asked, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Kate waved her off. "Please. Been there, done that."

Lanie grinned. "'Atta girl. So what is it this time?"

Kate took a deep breath, suddenly sort of apprehensive. "A drawer."

"A drawer?" Lane gaped at her.

Kate nodded. "Yeah. A drawer. In my apartment. His own drawer."

Lanie was silent, staring at her with the same slack-jawed expression on her face. "You?"

"Me what?"

"You don't have a drawer at his place, do you? So you're making the first move?"

"Yeah," Kate said on a deep exhale. "Go figure, right?"

"I – just – but –" Lanie spluttered. "How?"

"Eloquent," Kate commented on a chuckle. "I don't know, I just – it feels like the right thing to do. I want to."

"Wow. You want to?"

"Yeah," Kate said, nodding, feeling more confident again. She really _did _want to. "He's already over all the time. And I want him to know he's welcome, ya know? I'm in this as much as he is."

Lanie blinked. "You two are a little bit disgusting."

Kate chuckled. "And, I mean, it's been nine months. No time like the present, right?"

Lanie raised an eyebrow. "Wait, so _now _you're taking that advice I was giving you for four years?"

Kate laughed, surprised, and swatted at her shoulder. "You're awful. What about you, any plans?"

Lanie didn't respond but hid her face with a long sip of wine.

"Aha," Kate said with a grin, "Who's the lucky guy?"

**Target**

Alexis grew up around stuff like this.

Okay, so maybe getting abducted – kidnapped? What was the proper term for this thing, anyway? – was a bit out of the ordinary, but discussing murder techniques at the dinner table was a fairly common occurrence. She supposed a childhood like that sort of prepared her for anything. Her dad wrote books about spies and cops and killings, and there was some sort of kidnapping/abduction/whatever in every single one of them. Some had multiple. And, though her dad did try to shield her from most of his dangerous police escapades, he himself had lived through it. Maybe not like this, but there was that one time he'd come home with a bruise from an injector gun where they'd drugged him. It had scared her, but somehow she'd known that he'd always be fine in those situations. There wasn't much that could phase her dad.

Except maybe this, she thought with a sigh.

But she'd be okay. If he could handle it, she could handle it. After all, she had his genes, right? And, while she was terrified beyond anything she'd ever known before, she was still thinking clearly. Logically.

Spending so much time with the police had its advantages.

Finally, the running water in the bathroom turned off, and she let out a sigh of relief. Sara had been in there for a few minutes, obviously crying, and Alexis just hoped her friend could handle whatever was going to be thrown at them. Sara had grown up with a pretty charmed, pampered life. That's not to say she wasn't tough, but Alexis was pretty sure she hadn't had any experience dealing with things like figuring out how to escape from being duct taped to a chair.

God, she'd never roll her eyes at her dad's research methods again.

She could help Sara through this. They were a team now. They'd make it together.

They had no other choice.

The door opened and Sara stepped out, looking morose and disheveled.

"Were you crying in there?" Alexis asked quietly.

Sara sighed. "I thought the running water would cover it up."

"We'll be alright, Sara."

Sara looked away, shaking her head. "I thought this was all about the money. But these people speak Arabic." She paused, looking vaguely nauseous. "My father's a hated man back in Egypt."

Damn. This wasn't good. If these people wanted more than just Sara's father's money, than…

"We need to get out of here," Alexis said firmly, turning towards the door.

"The only way out is through that door, and it's _locked_," Sara pointed out.

Alexis bit back a sigh and turned back towards her friend, ready to work out an alternative plan. Until—

"Hey, are those bobby pins?"

**Hunt**

"How are you holding up?"

Kate took a seat on the couch next to Alexis, who had been staring vacantly at the room in front of her. The girl jerked, startled and probably more than a little bit jumpy, and looked over at her.

"Fine, I guess." She shrugged. "I don't really know."

Kate sighed. She knew that feeling all too well. The relief of being home, but feeling slightly off, like maybe you don't really belong there anymore. "I threw up the first time I saw a dead body," she said quietly.

Alexis looked surprised. "Really?"

Kate nodded. "Yeah. It wasn't even that bad of a murder, either. Just one gunshot. But I couldn't keep it together, and I was so embarrassed."

"How come?"

"Well," she said slowly, "I think it was because I had wanted to believe I was ready. That I was prepared for everything."

"But," Alexis said hesitantly, "you realized that there are some things there's no way to prepare for."

"Exactly."

Silence fell for several moments. Alexis picked nervously at her cuticles.

"How've you dealt with being taken?" she asked quietly. "How do you get over it?"

Kate chewed on her lip, choosing her words carefully. "I don't really know. I don't think you do."

"What do you mean?"

"It never goes away completely."

Alexis groaned. "Great."

Despite herself, Kate chuckled. "No, but it gets better. And hey, you successfully escaped a kidnapping, so schoolwork will now seem like a breeze, right?"

Alexis laughed. "I guess. I didn't have anything to do with the escape, though."

Kate nudged her arm. "Are you kidding? I've heard all the details, I know you picked the lock and got yourself out." Alexis looked rather flattered, and Kate smiled. "That's a hell of a thing. I'm really, really impressed."

The girl smiled, finally looking proud of herself. "Thanks. I guess that's what happens when you grow up with my dad."

Kate laughed. "I'm sure your grandmother's genes didn't hurt, either."

Alexis grinned. "I come from a pretty good bloodline for handling kidnappings. Did my dad tell you who he met in Paris?"

"No."

"His dad."

Kate's mouth fell open. "Are you serious?"

"Serious as a kidnapping."

Kate choked out a laugh, surprised; apparently they were at the point where they could joke about this. "But wait, how—?"

"He's a spy."

Upon seeing Kate's shock, Alexis laughed. "Hey, dad!" she called. "I think there's a story we need to tell Beckett."


End file.
